


The Holy Offspring

by EURYAL



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 13th Century, Alternate Universe, And His Grand Scheme Escape Him, Body Dysphoria, Bottom Draco Malfoy, But People Are Unpredictable, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Chess Metaphors, Child Hiding, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Defamation, Draco Is A Slytherin By Blood, Draco Malfoy Is Going For A Quest, Draco is a Young King, Draco's Life Is On His Chessboard And Everybody Is A Specific Pawn, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, False Identity, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Graphic Description, Gratuitous Slander, Gryffindor's Legacy, Heavy Angst, Hogwarts Is A Novelty, Imperialism, Inappropriate Use of Polyjuice, Kid Fic, Kids Issues, Kingdoms, Kings & Queens, Large Family Issues, M/M, Magical Racism, Marriage of Convenience, Moral Dilemmas, Mpreg, Murder, Parent-Child Relationship, Parselmouths, Powermonger Nobles, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Regency Issue, Royalty, Time Skips, Top Harry Potter, Unresolved Emotional Tension, War of Mages and Anti-Mages, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2019-11-17 23:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18108323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EURYAL/pseuds/EURYAL
Summary: Prince Draconis, Second Of His Name, is the new King of Evensoles, Lands of the Eastern Kingdom. After the death of His Grace, the late King Lux'Ciun and the murder of his seven wives, including the Beloved Narcissa. The Kingdom is in state of unrest, weakened and mourning under the constant threat of the barbarian Empire. To the Young King, there is only one way to defeat the powerful dynatsy of the mighty Emperor: to destroy the imperialists by their own ways. In order to fight fire with fire, his Kingdom needed a wizard child of the Emperor of Saurænia himself, by will or by force.





	1. I. The Three Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make money of this story, I wrote it for my own and others enjoyment.
> 
> PS : Read the end note, it's a lexicon. Believe me, it will help.
> 
> Tumblr : @decomplxe

**The Holy Offspring**

**I. The Three Monsters**

* * *

  
****

_There is an ode, whispers of three monsters._

 

_It told the story of the first of his kind,_

 

_One loved by all, people said, and killed by his own arrogance._

 

_There is an ode, whispers of three monsters._

 

_It told the story of the second who gathered both fear and desire like droplets of rain._

 

_One with a great beauty, people said, and even greater cruelty._

 

_There is an ode, whispers of three monsters._

 

_It told the story of the last but not the least who harvested both respect and admiration through battles and wars with an untamable bloodlust._

 

_One who attracted people like fire to the moths, people said, with a charism sung by all._

 

_Some may say it was the worst of the three, some may whisper it was the best of all,_

 

_But none could tell for sure,_

 

_Since none saw what happened to them._

 

* * *

 

 

If he ever wondered whether or not, his father loved him. The little prince only had to find out the meaning behind his name to have his answer. The King had named him, his only child, Goltraigue which signified _Chorus of Sadness_. And nothing could have been clearer to express his father feelings towards him. As he looked distractedly at his surroundings, the boy’s silent reflection was abruptly interrupted by a firm knock at the wooden doors of his bedroom.

 

“My Prince?”

Someone called behind the doors of his bedroom, the room in itself was unapologetically gigantic and each night passed there always seemed to get colder than the night before even if the fire was bright in the hearth and that his lonely four poster bed was literally engulfed by cushions and blankets. The wall facing the hearth was covered with a thick tapestry who represented a great silver dragon on a dark green background, the old emblem of the Royal House. His curtains were also made from a light silver who let the light of the sun and the moon through. The ground though was covered with a dark green rug and Goltraigue liked to walk barefooted on it during the summer. But his father had never let him go barefooted like some random peasant. Not that he ever wished it in winter with the cold and the humidity seeping in between the stones of the castle.

 

“Who is this?” Goltraigue called, closing his heavy book of old tales. “High Maester? You can always come in, you know?”

 

The Sorcerer opened the doors, revealing his tall and shadowed figure. Goltraigue stood from his chair behind his desk with a sigh, the days were always shorts during winter in the Eastern Lands and before he grew tired of his study the prince has to light some of the candles on his desk to read his writings and books.

 

“His Grace and the rest of his Royal Family are requesting your presence in the Royal Hall, My Prince.”

 

Goltraigue blinked at him, openly confused. He glanced at the windows, even if the sun had fallen, the sky was still light with the pinkish and purplish shades of nightfall. The little prince had only known seven winters in his short life but he knew they used to gather around six or seven o’clock and at this hour, the winter sky was already dotted with starts, of deep dark blue.

 

“The King decided to advance the meal tonight,” the dark-haired man explained.“A private announcement is scheduled.”

 

The prince raised an eyebrow surprised by the change before he gathered his heavy jacket, a velvet and intricate thing with complicate embroideries made of the colors of his family, the green and the silver from the lineage of Salazar Slytherin, First King of the Evensoles. His father did not tolerate any fault in his behavior, being a prince required a proper demeanor and every single error in his manners was always pointed by the king himself which could only lead to those insufferable lessons with his oldest aunt Pansilira. From his seven aunts and uncles, she was the one who liked to mock him, taking a great pleasure in belittling him at every opportunity. She wasn’t an intrinsically bad woman just harsh, straightforward and slightly wicked. Among them all, his favorite relative was his father youngest brother, his uncle Scorpius who was only twelve years older and the prince was quite close to his aunt’s daughter, his cousin Ceremyr who was just nine.

 

“Fine,” Goltraigue sighed, still adjusting his outfit.“Let’s hurry before they start complaining about me once again.”

 

The Sorcerer's lips thinned at this, and the prince grimaced. “But if you’re here, it means that they already started, didn’t they?”

 

While walking through the hallways, Goltraigue couldn’t help but let his mind wandering around the circumstances of his unexpected birth. The little prince never knew his mother, she died in childbirth and that wasn’t an exactly rare event. Rumors say that his father had gone, traveling in the west short time after his coronation and when he came back alone in the middle of the night after a long year, there was a wailing baby with him. Goltraigue didn’t particularly look like his father but he had his silver hair, the dragons hair, and his father was the last of the royal line who managed to inherit the Dragon’s blood among the eight children of the late King Lux’Cian. His father King - Draconis II - never revealed to anyone with whom he managed to make an Heir during his mysterious excursion and if the Court ever tried to name him illegitimate for the throne before, his silver hair when they heaved on his infant's head sealed their lips forever. After all, Goltraigue and his father were the only ones among all the Royal Family that arbored their Dragon’s blood like a second skin, the silver hair of the Dragon Men.

 

The law was clear as day on this stipulating that _Only the Dragons shall reign over the Evensoles._

 

Even if he had always been quite sheltered, Goltraigue is well aware, from his seven winters, that his father will probably never love him and that his only known family will ever stay a bit wary of him and of his blurry lineage. But none of that did matter to him, because the only thing who mattered was the fact that he was their future king and no one will want to be his enemy when he will sit on the throne.

 

 _A Throne of Dragons hidden under the skin of mankind_ , he thought remembering the old tale he had read.

 

* * *

 

 

 “ _Under the light of the Elder Moon_ , I proclaim Draconis of the House Slytherin, Second of His Name, King of the Evains and the First Dragons and Protector of the Eastern Kingdom.” The High Maester of the Opal Temple deposited the heavy crown on his head, encircling his long silver hair. “Long may he reign.”

 

The members of the King’s Court and the High Council repeated the words in an elusive alloy of admiration and reverence.

“Long may he reign.” They said, numerous voices resounding in tandem. The Throne Room was in an uproar and all eyes were turned towards the throne where the new King of the Evains - last of Dragon’s blood - sat, towering them from his elevated seat.

 

The King Draconis always had a significant resemblance with his father, the late King Lux’Cian but was his mother’s son. He was all long silver hair, with a lean figure, his complexion as light and pale as the moon. His eyes like his hair were from his father, grey as a stormy sky but his fine and graceful features were those of his mother, the late Queen Narcissa. The only one of the seven concubines of the King Lux’Cian that he had chosen to officially marry and crown against all odds, knowing his reputation towards beautiful women. Draconis, following his passed mother’s ways, had decided long before to let his hair grow as long as hers were before she was killed by the barbarians. Narcissa was a sweet woman, wise and patient who goes through a hard life as a lowborn before she managed to catch the King’s attention. She was kindhearted and full of love, Draconis had adored his mother when he was a child and her death had broken something in him. An act of cruelty, unexpected and undeserved, it had been also humiliating because her death took most of the King’s sanity with her, his madness spread misery until the most remote lands of the kingdom he becames careless instead of carefree.

 

The young Draconis had vowed to avenge her on her funeral and when his father and his siblings mothers were murdered by the Saurænians, the young prince knew that he will turn the world apart to have the head of the Enemy on a pike in front of Slytherin’s Castle at Ev’Dracaenas, the Capital. He knew that he would never retreat to anything in order to annihilate the Conqueror of Saurænia, the Emperor.

 

And today, after the endless fights of the High Council and the Court’s members, was the day given to the move of his first pawn on the War Chessboard.

 

_The dice were launched._

 

* * *

 

 

Draconis wasn’t the kind of man who could gather love easily, he could win admiration, being desired, respected or feared, but loved? Love wasn’t a simple affair, people needed something great to latch on and he couldn’t promise them the same leniency that makes his father popular among the lowborn and the wealthy merchants. Draco wasn't easy-going, he was mostly cold even - if he could make use of his charms - unlike his father which could go for nights drinking, playing, talking with the people with an endless patience. That’s how he had won Narcissa’s heart, after all, when seeing a man of great power using his noble status to get women would have enraged most of the youth, his father managed it swiftly, he'd been exceptionally gifted to charm people.  He was so loved, people mourned him for months and were still mourning him and Draconis had still a lot of work to do to birth his own light in the people's hearts. Without forgetting that King Lux, _'King Of Light_ ', was a King who could become extremely lenient when you were able to give him what he wanted from you, people were eager to please him as he could be extremely generous when he was happy. What happened to the Blacks was a testimony of that, Narcissa pleased him so much, he thanked her whole family. It was little acts as such that make the people so obliging and his father, bathing in so much love, became blind to many things. Things that costed him greatly and provoked his early demise.

 

Draconis was so different, his father had been a boisterous, careless and over-joyous man. Almost every day, there was a big feast in the Great Hall in his name, the names of his numerous children and numerous wives. Tourneys and Feasts were commonplace in the capital for every day, there was something to celebrate, at some point even celebration was celebrated. The nobility was carefree during his long reign, knowing that no one was going after them if they somehow found themselves breaking the rules, breaching the laws to get wealthier, gain more power and influence. His father was too much-occupied drinking, passing his days putting babies in the bellies of his wives, wasting the crown’s gold for such triviality as law enforcement. It was disastrous and when the Conqueror turned his eyes on the East of the Old Continent after rampaging the Southern Kingdoms during decades, there was absolutly no one to stop him. Sure, Lux’Cian eventually woke up and reacted but by the time he turned his back at the power-hungry nobles - who saw the crisis as an opportunity to seize the Cursed Throne of the Dragons - and put the direction of the Armies in the hands of the most infamous man of the Old Continent, the nicknamed Voldemort. The Emperor had already conquered two of the five Major Provinces in the Evensoles, thankfully the eastern Islands remained unscathed.

 

Voldemort was known to have fled the lands he belonged to. His mother - who died in birth - was a pure Saurænian, as such, she was gifted with magic but his father was an Evain, a provincial son of a rich merchant. Their child unexpectedly inherited the gift of his mother and the Saurænians found him before the provincial people even heard of him and took him away. His real name was Tommen Riddle after his father’s and he was a very powerful wizard - much more than the average, an anomaly some will say - and an ambitious young man, maybe too much because, after years of living among them as an orphan without knowing his real parents, Riddle initiated a Rebellion at the age of forty-three against the ruling dynasty of Saurænia which was only a large kingdom back then.

 

In 1301, the period of _The Inners Wars_ started and lasted a decade until the _Night of the Fallen Stars_ , the third day of the Reed Moon’s month in 1311 and just a day before Samhain, when Riddle and his followers managed to kill the King James and his wife, Queen Liliana, but an old wizard named Albus Dumbledore managed to repel the Death-Eaters with the rest of the loyalists and to save the prince Heramald, last of the Gryffindors. A very young prince who seized the power in an iron fist at the tender age of sixteen. In a vengeful ascension, the young King destroyed absolutely every wish of rebellion in the hearts of the prideful Saurænians, the very idea of it was banned from the spirits but Riddle escaped his sword and fled from his conviction to hid far in the East, far enough to reach the Evensoles, The Dragonslands. The King Heramald didn’t stop then, once he tasted victory, he wanted more and attacked ruthlessly others kingdoms to assure the strength of his own and conquered during decades and decades without any failures, his Army becoming larger and larger as his Empire gained in size but he never managed to find out where the Infamous Tommen Riddle was hidden.

 

Rumors spread from this Great Tale on Voldemort, saying that he used arcane and prohibited magic to survive and hide, whispers on his supposed immortality and damned soul even if the Mages of Saurænia were originally long-livers for the purest of them. The legendary Saurænian Kings of Gryffindor's lineage had one of them who lived during centuries and old minstrels sang that Voldemort was only waiting for his time to come again. In 1358, Riddle resurfaced and befriended the King Lux’Cian. The Evains were a proud people, they would have never rendered themselves to the Empire without a fight but the news of Riddle in the Court of the King of Light ruined the chances they had to negotiate with the Dreadful Conqueror. If Draco hadn’t been a child at this time, he would have called his father a fool for having welcomed a runaway. The Emperor gave them five years, luring Lux’Cian in a false feeling of security and then, he struck. His mother was in one of the provinces, visiting the lands given to her family - the Blacks - when the King offered them nobility and lands as a gift for the hand of Narcissa and she died with most of them.

 

Draco never saw the Emperor but the tales in his name were numerous, they sang his skills in battles, his strength, his strong and slow-aging appearance despite his old age and the attractiveness of his features. The Saurænians had always said to the strangers that he was a true Gryffindor - a powerful wizard of ancient blood - and that was all enough for him to know that his charisma was his main asset in leadership. He took a naturally rebellious folk and turn it into a conquering and loyal people. As much as he wanted him dead, Draco could take his story as an example to avoid repeating the mistakes of his father.

 

It was only a chance that the Emperor’s Army was made of blood and flesh, otherwise, the Evensoles would have been doomed. Their men needed rest and their army needed young and fresh blood in it, it was the only reason who made them walk away and permit Riddle to gather the Armies of the stubborn Lords and Ladies of the Evensoles except for the besieged provinces obviously. However, if Draco learned something of the Barbarians it was to ever stay wary of them. In surface, they took a rest but behind the Enemy had sent mercenaries to the capital, Wizards who made themselves pass for Evains and snuck in the Great Castle of Ev’Gemini, the residence of King Lux’Cian's concubines where he passed most of his nights after Queen Narcissa’s death. Fortunately, Draco and his siblings were at Ev’Dracaenas in Slytherin’s Castle that somber night and rumors say that it took a hundred of men before they managed to kill the mercenaries who were only three but all pure Saurænians gifted with their obscure and strange magical skills. The message couldn’t have been clearer as Saurænians assassinated the King Lux’Cian and his wives the very night of the death of James and Liliana Gryffindor, the third night under the light of the Reed Moon, a day before Samhain. Everyone siding with Riddle will suffer this fate.

 

Newly crowned, Draco knew that his situation was precarious. The High Council would suggest vassalage as the smartest move in their situation. The Emperor’s Army was ten times bigger than theirs maybe even more and they would definitely lose any war. As the two others great kingdoms of the Old Continent, Edarion under the reign of the Ravenclaws and Ilvenia under the Hufflepuffs did before him. He would remain the King of the East but in name only and as a vassal of the Emperor, in other words, he would be accountable to the Empire of Saurænia and one the Emperor’s subjects. No more Sovereign in his own Kingdom. Which was unthinkable for him and Voldemort who his father named General of the Armies before he died. Draco could have put someone else for this role with some efforts because he certainly did not trust the old serpent, but on his chessboard as long as Riddle did not try to play against him he was his only bulwark in the High Council. Because Draconis knew in his heart of hearts that the Evensoles shall never be the same again with the Mages controlling them and no one could predict how the Cursed Throne would react to a sub-ruling Dragonblood. Draconis wanted for his Kingdom to stay isolated and preserved from the toxic influences of the foreigners and for Riddle... Well.

 

Obviously, their intentions weren’t the same, Voldemort wanted Gryffindor’s Empire for himself, he would kill Draco without hesitation if he was in his way. Draconis wanted above all, his revenge for the murder of his parents with his people protected against the eternal threat of magic practitioners. During the whole time, it took for the High Council to gather their wits and schedule his Coronation, the young man had concocted a plan. And his main asset was an ambivalent knight, the High Maester of the Opal Temple, Maester Severus.

 

Draco knew that the members of the Opal Temple’s ancestors were pure Saurænians whose magic turned so wrong and destructive that they had been banned from the old kingdom, deemed too dangerous and unworthy. He knew from the old texts that the banned Saurænians were what the magic practioners called Obscurials. Their progeny created an Order whose members lived in Temples scattered all over the world and were specialized in healing, magical researches and the secrets arts of alchemy. During centuries, their children hid their weaker form of magic and revealed their secrets to only a few chosen. Draconis was the King, of course, he'd been made aware of their activities. A lot of them still lived secluded in the High Mountains of the Evensoles in their first Temple and his ancestors had always taken to have one of them in Ev’Dracaenas in the service of the Crown when one died the Opal Temple sent another and so on. The High Maester Severus was the last sent to them and Draco knew that he wasn’t just a miraculous healer. Nowadays, the Wizards don't banish the rare Obscurials still living anymore, they were cured and their magic saved after the discovering of a cure during the seventh century.

 

Draconis looked at the other side of the circular hall of the High Maester’s Tower, a secluded part of Slytherin's Castle. The workroom's curtains were of a dark purple to obstruct the light of the day and the remaining of the room was eerily white, candles were scattered on the white painted or dyed furnishings and the ground had been covered with an almost reflecting white tiling for some purpose. Draconis suspected that it might have something to do with their alchemy. The High Maester had vanished behind the heavy curtains shielding the alcove that led to the stairs of the tower to retrieve something, leaving him alone downstairs.

Taking advantage of this rare moment of peace, the King began to rummage through the sorcerer’s cupboards. Shelves after shelves, he discovered jars filled with odds specimens dipped in a dark greenish liquid. The fire in the hearth was crackling behind him and exotic plants were scattered everywhere in the room, fangs and claws were piled up in wood boxes and wicker baskets, reptilian scales and skins in jars. There were old furs as well but not in order to warm the room, they were piled in a corner beneath the windows. The King grimaced when he took one of the jars and discovered floating eyes after blowing on the dust, he put the jar back in place with disgust and returned beside the heavy curtains-doors when he heard footsteps nearing.

 

“As His Grace requested.”

 

The High Maester raised a vial with a very light blue liquid inside when he walked past the curtains and the King took it hastily. “My thanks, Maester. I shall make good use of it,” he told him, turning around to leave but the Sorcerer stopped him with a motion towards the baskets.

 

“I would recommend to His Majesty an extreme caution with this mixture. Any foreign contact with the composite can change drastically the desired effects,” he declared steadily, opening the tiniest wicker basket he ever saw to take out a lone berry who wasn’t red but strangely white; like everything in this room. “And this,” the dark-haired man added, deposing the peculiar berry in his palm. “Is to eat after the midnight and before the first light of dawn on the night of conception.”

 

Draconis nodded slowly, putting his materials in a silk pouch, and took his leave when the Sorcerer reopened the small entrance of his tower. Afraid that someone would have spied him going to see the Maester and started rumors on his supposed sickness, he moved fast. Returning to the castle in a blink of eye, and it was in the hallways that he crossed his oldest sister, the Princess Pansilira walking with her toddler in the arms.

 

“Here you are,” she breathed, audibly relieved. “I have searched you through half of the castle and no one could tell me where you were, Brother,” she deposited her daughter back on the floor who immediately started to fuss to return in her mother's arms, pulling her dress but the Princess ignored her and handed him a roll seemingly got out of thin air. “My Husband came to me beforehand to give this, as you know he represents the Merchant Class in the High Council like his father before him. The High Council will gather tonight in the High Chamber and they want to hear your decision concerning the Emperor’s threats. The General of the Army's endeavors to postpone the meeting had been perceived as a menace and the members voted his temporary suspension, he will have no voice tonight, my King. May I give an advice?”

 

Draconis unrolled the message, swiftly scanning on it a longer version of his sister’s statements. Well, Tommen Riddle had always been known to push too far from the imposed limits. The King would have been a really poor planner if he hadn’t expected this outcome.

 

“You may as well, Pansy,” he gestured in her general direction without taking off his eyes from the missive.

 

“I would think of the vassalage as the safest choice even if some of the people would go against that decision,” she whispered lowly, looking at her daughter who had gone playing with the kitten roaming near the windows, the baby was only one year old. “The Lords and Ladies would prefer the vassalage rather than suffer the fate of the Blacks and the Selwyns in the besieged Provinces.”

 

She was right, from the Black Family survived only Sirius Black - the firstborn of the precedent Lord who was sent to the capital for disgraceful behavior - and Narcissa’s sisters Bellatrix and Andromeda Black who both married a Lord and a rich merchant from other regions before the unfortunate events. Andromeda was actually living in the capital with her husband, the rich merchant Theodore Tonks and Bellatrix lived in the north of the Evensoles with her husband, Lord Lestrange. As for the Selwyns, none survived, the Saurænians killed every single one of them as Lord Selwyn and Lord Black stubbornly refused to render themselves, it was understandable, the men had been really close friends of the King Lux'Ciun in their time and had been fiercely loyal to him, following his more foolish decisions to the grave.

 

The young King stared silently at the little girl. Ceremyr was beautiful in her light green dress with her father’s fiery hair and her mother’s doe-like eyes, it was only natural for a mother to fear for the life of her child. Pansilira wasn’t one of the youngest mothers of the family, she was presently twenty-four - Draco’s mother herself had him at seventeen which was unexpected even at those days - and Pansy didn’t wed any noble as it was expected from her, she chose instead the son of one of the richest merchants of all the Evensoles, William Weasley and their father, King Lux'Ciun - who couldn’t care less to anger the nobles - let her do it. After the death of his father, Arthur Weasley, William took his seat in the High Council as the representative of the Merchant Class.

 

Draco reached out and took his sister hand in his. “You know that I would do my best to protect the children of this kingdom, Sister.”

 

“I know,” she sighed, reluctantly taking her gaze away from her progeny to look back at her brother and king. “I just fear sometimes that your hatred will blind you from the consequences of your actions,” she confided, her fear pushing her to show a surprising honesty for once.

 

 _Hatred_ , Draco thought.  _What could she possibly know of hatred?_

 

Motherhood did good on her, Pansilira was known as one of the more malicious children of the King but it was true that she deeply cared for her own. Always fussing over her child, she forgot to make a hell of others lives. Draconis was only slightly annoyed that she thought him the sort of fool blinded by his feelings. _What_ feelings?

 

“I promise you, Pansy,” he said carefully, meeting the dark pools of his sister's doe’s eyes as always surrounded with lush dark eyelashes with his own stormy gaze. Physically, they were as day and night as Pansy took nearly everything after her mother - except for her light moon-kissed complexion that comes from their father - with her long silky raven hair, the strong lines of her eyebrows and her dark eyes and as Draco took his silver hair, very light skin and pale eyes from their father, people even used to call him a little King Lux'Ciun which ended by calling the both of them Lux and Nox in their childhood. “I promise you that I would never endanger the life of my niece.”

 

 _But victory can not be assured without sacrifices_ , he added mentally as she left with Ceremyr’s little hand in her, the toddler waddling gracelessly at her side.

 

Once he was alone in the opulent apartments of the King’s Wing. Draconis allowed himself a rest before the familial lunch. It was still late morning, only it feels like the longest day ever. As soon as he woke up, his entire day had been scheduled. First of all, the breakfast in the Royal Hall with every member of his near family living in Ev’Dracaenas, City of the Dragon Kings. The oldest structure in the Evensoles, older even than the first Opal Temple hidden in the Eastern High Mountains.

 

A work of architectural art, Ev’Dracaenas was at first a gigantic fortress built by the first Dragon Men in the beginning of the first millennia. Later around when Salazar Slytherin the Dragon and Godric Gryffindor the Mage established their kingdoms in the East and the West of the Old Continent, rapidly followed by the brilliant Rowena Ravenclaw in the North - her territory longing the northern coast of the continent like a wide sword - and the talented Helga Hufflepuff in the South whose territory looked like a star with the numerous Islands surrounding the southeast quarter of the Continent. Small kingdoms emerged with years but none as great as the Four Major Kingdoms. Salazar Slytherin built his castle in the heart of Ev’Dracaenas which had widened in size and population density with years, on the highest hill which was currently called the Snake’s Hill after Slytherin’s love for the beasts. The man took after the Dragon Men's legendary love for greatness and built the most intricate castle of the Four Great Kingdoms.

 

The most beautiful place in Slytherin’s Castle was the Great Hall where the Feasts were held but the Royal Hall reserved to the royal family exclusively was also extremely good on eyes. Outside of the holy days, occasional Feasts, Tourneys or Name-days, most Breakfasts and Dinners were held intimately with the close family in the Royal Hall, but the Lunch in the Royal Hall wasn’t mandatory, those who came were there for the decorum or private discussions, it was poorly seen to avoid his family in the East. Therefore, only those who were busy outdoors or ill were excused. This morning, his siblings along with their partners and possible children were present for the family meal, along with his mother’s cousin, Sirius Black, his own Aunt Andromeda who came there during her husband travel with her daughter, Nymphadora and surprisingly enough the Lestrange couple with their most unexpected newborn still breastfeeding.

 

After the breakfast, the King was to attend to his people - mostly nobles - and to answers every single one of their requests and grievances. The Hearings lasted until mid-morning in the presence of the Court and were to resume after lunch. As the symbolic father of the Evains, the King was to be present at some of the baptisms for the nobility’s children in the Opal Temple of Ev’Dracaenas not the Ancient Temple in the high mountains. This morning after the public Hearings, the High Maester with the Monks of the Opal Temple officiated the baptism of Lord Lestrange’s firstborn after years of trying and Draconis had the privilege to see one of the rare shows of emotion of his aunt Bellatrix who was known as the toughest of the three sisters.

 

After years of being deemed barren, the King thought she was on her right to be for once overwhelmed, it was charming to know that she wasn’t totally made of cold stone. Even more charming to have a proof of Lord Rodolphus faithfulness, he could have chosen another wife but he never did, must be the charms of the Black sisters. Andromeda ended up as the wealthiest woman of the kingdom, Bellatrix's caught the heart of the Lord of one of the Most Ancient and Noble Family and Narcissa became a Queen among her husband's seven wives. Rodolphus’ younger brother - Rabastan - was also present and they named their son after one their oldest ancestors, Euphraïlde Lestrange, the son of the very first Lestrange. The ceremony goes smoothly and ended with his oldest aunt loudly crying over her little Ayeld who was equally crying on his mother’s bosom for different reasons though. Draconis tried to contain his amusement but he had always known that his aunt Bellatrix was a little crazy in her head somedays.

 

He used the distraction to follow the High Maester in his Tower and this decision allowed him the briefest moment without being spied, followed by servants or attended by members of the Court. It was those briefs instants he came to cherish since his coronation. Right now, the King only had half an hour before he was to be summoned at his own meal.

 

Draco waved at his assigned hand-maiden, a teen he chose because she - inexplicably enough - adored him, ensuring him her complete loyalty. She was only sixteen but fortunately silent and very skilled in her tasks. “Bring me some wine, Loreta.”

 

“Yes, Your Grace,” she replied dutifully and the two guards from the Kingsguard behind his doors, Ser Goyle and Ser Crabbe, let her go and come without much fuss. Once she was out, he turned around to join his private library who was also his office. The room could also be entered by the main hallway of the King’s Wing and there were two guards at its doors as well but none were inside though, as such he was not surprised to be welcomed by the sight of his half-sister Lunæria sitting in one of the two armchairs turned towards the crackling embers of the hearth, a thick book of old tales on her lap. She looked up at him when he entered, turning her dreamy blue eyes to meet his gaze.

 

“You passed the whole morning there, didn’t you?” He guessed, crossing the room to sit on behind his desk which was icliid towards the doors, he rested the roll on it. “Weren’t you supposed to go to the inauguration of the new Young Ladies School of Madam Maxime to testify the participation of the Royal Family, Luna?”

 

Luna blinked owlishly at him. “A new school? For young Ladies?”

 

“I see,” sighed Draconis, pinching the edge of his nose to contain his annoyance.

 

“Oh,” Lunæria exclaimed, softly giggling when Draco leaned heavily against his seat with a deep sigh, decorum briefly tossed away. The King closed his eyes tiredly for a bit. “You must speak of Beauxbatons. Theoden and his wife went there instead of me, you know how they’re with their studies and researches, scholarship is their domain.”

 

“Great,” he commented her, straightening himself, eyes steeled. “Your airhead behavior will have caused us enough problems in the past. I am not Father, Lunæria,” he warned her quite icily, piercing her insufferable dreamy bubble. “I will not tolerate that you delegate your duty or forget any of your tasks after this, am I understandable?”

 

“Perfectly,” she answered tightly, closing the dusty book of old tales that her mother used to read to all of them every in their childhood.

 

Draconis and Lunæria were born the same year, he was born the twenty-sixth day under the Hawthorn Moon in 1345 and she was born the twenty-seventh day of the same month and year, Draco was born later and Luna much earlier than they should have. They were both respectively nineteen and drastically different. If physically it was obvious that they were siblings, their characters were so opposite that they rarely passed time together during their childhood. Draconis was as malicious as Pansilira and Lunæria was so engrossed in her own world that other people were almost insignificant to her, and Draconis hated more than anything being ignored. It wasn’t intentional, she did not deliberately keep people away but it was enough to keep them from becoming really close despite their age.

 

“Because,” Draco pursued, opening a locker drawer under the desk to put in his secret pouch and locked it again, surreptitiously hiding the key back in one of his shoes. “If you didn't realize our near-war precarious situation, I would be happy to blow away that thick fog of yours surrounding your thoughts to wake you up. Do I have to remind you that the Enemy is waiting outside for the opportunity to strike upon us?”

 

“I am not as thick as you seem to think, brother,” she retorted dryly, lips pursed, sending him a glare that was alien on her pretty face, all traces of joyfulness forgotten. Luna had always been close to their father, her joyfulness and sweetness getting along formidably with his boisterous self. “ _None_ of us is going to be put a risk, none of your people is going to die, if you put aside your selfishness for one  _single_ night,” she spat at him in all her righteousness, standing before him. “As I am sure you will do tonight. You the one who discovered the meaning sacrifice before all of us-”

 

“Your Grace?” A hesitant voice broke her speech and they both looked at the closed doors.

 

“Come Loreta, we were done,” Draco told her and Loreta made her appearance with a silver tray containing the wine jug and some cups. Yes, Draconis has no scruples drinking wine early in the day.

 

The girl looked worriedly at Luna before she bowed politely, her blonde bun bouncing slightly on her head. “Princess Lunæria.”

 

His sister turned around to leave without bothering  herself to acknowledge the girl, still looking a bit irritated, her beautiful flowery long dress dancing around her hips. Near the doors though, she stopped herself and glanced behind one last time.

 

“You must know that the vassalage is the safest choice, my King.” She breathed out. “Vengeful hearts are rarely victorious.”

 

Draconis glanced back at her, hardly surprised by her statement. Of course, it was the safest decision, doesn't mean it was right. “Thank you for sharing your opinion, Luna.”

 

The heavy doors were closed by the guards behind her, her book of tales forgotten on the rug near the coffee table and Draconis suddenly remembered something his older brother Theoden repeatedly said to him and Pansy when they were children .

 

‘ _Dreamy Luna but not Stupid Luna.’_

 

Indeed, he thought, smirking at the old memory.

 

As the Elder Moon vanished with his coronation on the last day of the month. The beginning of the year 1365 in the Evensoles was as cold as the precedent years under the Birch Moon, especially near the mountains, the paved alleys of the Citadel were covered in dusty snow. The City of Ev’Dracaenas was one of the Great Wonders in the world but during winter, it was as frozen as everywhere under the season of the cold. The newly crowned King looked at Loreta as the hand-maiden revived the fire in the hearth and grimaced at coldness of his rooms.

 

“You shouldn’t have let it die,” he berated her, slowly sipping his red wine. The rich and sweet taste rolling on his tongue let him temporarily contented and he turned around to peer through the large windows, seeing the snow drumming relentlessly from the sky on the Snake’s Hill, showing a luminous white coat. He looked at the tall trees of the Kingswood behind Slytherin’s Castle, the old oaks and elms barren by the harsh winds and dusted with the falling snow.

 

“I am sorry, Your Grace. It won’t happen again,” she swore, the revived fire, heating and coloring the room with high flames when he looked to her.

 

Draconis sighed, resting his emptied wine cup back on the silver tray. “How much time before Lunch?”

 

“Less than twenty minutes, Sire.” She answered dutifully and he dismissed her, filling his wine cup again. Draco leaned in his seat, closing his stormy eyes. As Loreta was gone to eat with the other servants in the kitchens, he waited for her stand-in to come in her stead during her breaks. The boy would probably be there in fifteen minutes by the time he finished his own meal on the other side of the castle.

 

It was the squeaks of the wooden doors who woke him up from where he had been dozing off for almost half an hour. He didn’t recognize the young man who entered but forgot about it when a horrid smell filled his nostrils. Draco raised his left hand to stop him from getting any closer, seeing his leather screeches and muddy boots much too close of his carpet.

 

“You... smell like dirty muck,” he hissed angrily, the smell upsetting his stomach.

 

“As it is expected from the groom,” replied staidly the young man, facing the blatant disgust of the King without even blinking. He looked and smelled like he'd been drowned in horse dung a whole day, nay, a whole year.

 

“Take a step back,” Draco ordered, breathing carefully when he obeyed. “Care to explain why I have a groom as a servant today?”

 

“My brother has fallen from a tree yesterday and broke his leg. He has been sent to the Opal Temple to be healed and I am here in his stead.”

 

“A tragedy,” Draco commented. “But you are still late.”

 

“I… I lost my way in the hallways,”he admitted shortly.

 

“Your Grace,” he scolded out of habit, when the man forgot his manners for the second time around in the same minute.“I lost my way, _Your Grace_. Don’t forget to add it, you’re in presence of your King. You bow in greetings when you come to someone of royalty and finish every sentence with the title of the person you’re facing.”

 

“Yes, Your Grace.” The groom straightened himself and Draco snorted audibly.

 

“What’s your name?” He asked, standing up himself while adjusting his outfit.

 

“Octavius Orison, Sire.”

 

“Your brother’s name is Orius, right?”

 

“Yes, Your Grace.”

 

 _What freshness_ , he mentally sighed. _Ori, Orius, Octavius_.

 

“Pick up the silver tray, Octavius,” Draco told him, passing next to him to leave his office. “You’re to take it back to the kitchens to not let it rot outside and join me in the Royal Hall before I get there myself, wait for me by the doors and stay outside. I am not eating while smelling horse manure.”

 

Unsurprisingly, Draconis was in the Royal Hall even before his newly assigned servant find his way to the kitchens which were near the Royal Hall and the Great Hall to facilitate the exchanges between the Halls and the kitchens. Everyone was already there at his arrival and stood to greet him which was the signals for the servants to get the food. The King’s seat was at the end of the large wooden table with round edges, elevated and made of green velvet adornment with gilded ornaments, it was the more costly object of the room and at the other endow the table was a similar empty seat reserved to the next Crown Prince. The rest of the Royal Hall was as much adorned as the King and Heir’s seats. The royal sigils were engraved in the wood, covered with gold with encrusted emeralds they showed a dragon and a snake on the table and on every back of the chairs, there were tulips. The seats were covered with a thick green cloth also embroidered with the Royal Flower. There were paintings and tapestries scattered on large walls of the private Hall and with a beautiful candelabra hanging in the middle of the ceiling, shining with dozens of candles.

 

When he sat, the servants moved and the conversations resumed themselves among the members of the Royal family as they settled. Draconis ate in silence, listening as his family argued between themselves, humming slightly each time someone tried to include him. Bellatrix showed off her miraculous baby who she almost drowned in heavy garments today for his baptism, Pansilira made Ceremyr tell every single word she managed to pronounce approximatively right which were few since the girl was only one, she wasn’t able to tell her own name properly. Sirius Black and Rodolphus Lestrange started a heated argument concerning the threats of Saurænia and the reality of the vassalage, a nice word to deprive them of everything. An argument that the King thoroughly ignored and focused instead on the studious debate between his four-years-old elder - his brother Theoden - and his lovely wife Hermione on the other right side of the table, they were speaking of astronomy, mathematical calculation and the last discoveries in this field, namely new stars and forgotten constellations.

 

Near the doors, Nymphadora was joking with his youngest brother Scorpius, a golden-haired boy with hazel eyes and the nose dusted with freckles. He was only ten and often mocked by his closer siblings in age, the twins Padmary and Parvan, a girl and a boy, who were both fifteen with a light brown skin from miscegenation with the same stormy grey eyes of their father and the dark wavy hair of their mother whose parents were born under the sun of Ilvenia in the Southern Islands, the twins were pestering Scorpius as always. Facing cousin Nymphadora on the left side of the large table was Zacharya, the third son of Lux’Cian was seventeen years old. If some people thought that Draconis was contemptuous, they never meet Zacharya before, with his golden curls, creamy tone of skin and blue eyes as pale as the morning sky, he was his usual pompous and standoffish self. If you weren’t of royal blood for Zacharya you were as good as the mud under his feet. Lunæria, her long hair like threads of pale gold were covered with white pearls, she was sitting close to him and was playing with a babbling Ceremyr on her mother lap who made a point to show her aunt how much she loved her. Pansilira was whispering gossip in her husband’s ear while randomly shaking her head at her daughter and Luna’s antics. As for Andromeda, she was literally bathing her older sister with tips and tricks of motherhood and Bellatrix while petting her little Ayeld was listening to her as if she just delivered the holy words.

 

Draconis hid his smile and rolled his eyes, his family was quite endearing, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> — LEXICON and END WORDS —
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this.
> 
> * Ev’Dracaenas: Named after the dragon-riders, it's the capital of Evensoles. Originally an old fortress (or citadel), it had widened in size and its greatest construction is now Slytherin’s Castle.
> 
> ** Castle of Ev’Gemini: It’s a summer place that the King Lux’Ciun offered to his concubines.
> 
> *** The Celtic Tree Calendar: I used it in this story instead of the Gregorian, it contains 13 full moons and 13 months. I tried to be accurate on the birth’s months of most characters when there is actual accuracy. It was way to complicate to use the names of their months, so I chose to only use their moons. Examples: the Reed Moon (for the 12th month), the Elder Moon (for the last month of the year), the Birch Moon (first of the year) etc.
> 
> **** The King Lux’Cian and his seven wives: like an Emperor with his concubines or a Sultan with his wives (Their children are not bastards because the women had been claimed (if not married) and the King must select his heir among his children.) Narcissa’s only difference is that Lux’Cian made her Queen by marrying and crowning her in front of the Court after her child’s birth though. She didn’t have power and was more like a trophy wife.
> 
> My words: Fun fact, I wasn't thinking of GoT when I got the idea. I actually remembered a passage of an odd story about a viking woman who stole the child of a rich man, and she managed it. But don’t be shocked if I take few of their elements, because GRR Martin’s books are just good to give a general idea on the political games of power going on between nobility and royalty. The Coronation’s speech and the Dragon’s blood are clearly a thing though, even if the similarity stop here. And this is not a love story per-say, even if there is love everywhere as much as every other natural feelings. You’ll see more in the next chapter, with a lot more characters.
> 
> XX


	2. II. The Wheel Of Fortune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> — LEXICON —
> 
> Empire of Saurænia: Currently composed of old minors kingdoms, the former Kingdoms of Saurænia, Edarion and Ilvenia.
> 
> The Great Kingdoms: Ilvenia, Edarion and the Evensoles, respectively ruled by the Ravenclaws, the Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins. (And Western Saurænia before it became an Empire.)

**The Holy Offspring**

**II. The Wheel of Fortune.**

* * *

 

 

_There is a rumor, a tale who revealed a secret._

 

_A long time ago when the Sky Lords befell, springing mountains and forests from the ground,_

 

_One of them survived._

 

_There is a rumor, a tale who claimed a truth._

 

_A long time ago when the Sky Lords befell, digging deep oceans, seas and rivers in the ground,_

 

_One of them hid in deep waters._

 

* * *

 

 

Like every family, the Royal Family has its fair share of dramas and gossips running on its members. One of the most scandalous gossips was the one on the Princess Padmary and Roan Weasley with whom she was said to be secretly intimate. The rumors were probably true, Draconis has no doubts about it. Padmary was shameless in love and her private affairs intentionally poorly hidden. As soon as she turned sixteen Padmary’s betrothal contract with the youngest Weasley was to be arranged and sealed by Pansilira and William, Draco would only have to sign or burn the parchment. In the meantime, the two lovebirds weren’t to go unchaperoned until their wedding due in the end of the next year when they will both be seventeen and eighteen. But of course, they had to do something like that and get caught. The King had always found himself free of sexual urges, his mind constantly filled with extremely important matters, but he could guess what type of hormones are driving the two teenagers out of the line.

 

Less alarming, there were the gossips and jokes on Lunæria turning around the Commander of the King's guard, Ser Blaithin Zabini like a moth near fire. One of the more beautiful Princesses of the Old Continent with a Knight? _A joke certainly_ , people reacted. It wasn’t a fairy tale because if Ronan Weasley wasn’t a noble he was richer than most of them as the heir of one of the richest traders of the Continent. As all of Arthur Weasley's sons took others professions and William his father’s seat in the High Council, the Weasley Industry will be his by rights when he will be of age. The Weasley’s gold will refund eventually the holes dug by the late King Lux’Cian’s foolishness.

 

As much as he despised most of the nobles for the regular threats they were to the stability of his power, they were right. Luna was not going to get her fairy tale. First of all, Ser Blaithin was under a vow that could only be broken by the King himself. As a knight of the Kingsguard, he vowed his life to the protection of his King, which meant no wife and no children, therefore he couldn’t wed Lunæria and Draco wasn’t nearly stupid enough to allow such a thing to happen. If he was to touch her, he would lose everything but the young King has known Ser Blaithin since childhood and he knew that he would never indulge Lunæria, his sense of honor was too great and his loyalty was to Draco as well as his friendship, Luna’s attention will waver in time, surely. The same thing would probably happen to Padmary but she was smart enough to grow content as one of the richest women of the Old Continent. Draconis didn’t know for sure who Lunæria was going to marry, Pansilira as the elder was the one in charge to sort out the best matches among the betrothing proposals of the nobles before showing them to him for the final choice. And Luna was young, no need to hurry.

 

With those thoughts turning in his mind, the King opened the doors behind his elevated seat in the High Chamber taken for the nightly gathering of the High Council. It was highly amusing to see the length the High Council could go through to avoid the uninvited Lords who always try to sneak in the meeting among the selected Advisors and Courtiers. In the deathly silence of his entrance, the King recognized in the circular room the High Maester Severus sitting among the Advisors near the Master of Laws and his sister Pansilira, not far from the bench of the Representatives.

 

He heard absently the Herald announcing the presence of the King but was mainly focused on replaying his speech in his head during most of the time.

 

“… After deliberating daily during the past fortnight, the High Council come to the ultimate decision of proposing the vassalage under the reign of the Emperor of Saurænia as the safest and best action possible to preserve the interests of our Kingdom to the King Draconis II,” the First Councilor intoned to all.

 

Draconis watched him sit before he raised in return, seeing them held their breaths at his gesture, he realized that this day was to show them all what kind of king they would have. And he knew that there was three kind of rulers.

 

_Will he be a tyrant, a fool or a wise king?_

 

“Based on the proposal of the High Councilors,” the King announced. “My decision and the actions we will pursue must ensure the safety of my people above all. The Evensoles are the lands of a powerful kingdom, one of the Four Great Kingdoms. The blood running through the veins of our people is old, even older than the blood of the First Rulers of the Old Continent. We, Evains, are the sons and daughters of the First Dragons. Our Ancestors reigned from the very beginning over the infinite skies as undisputed masters before the grounds of the Earth were even livable, they were there before the First Mages of Saurænia. When they befell from the heights, hard enough to dig oceans, seas and rivers, hard enough to shake the soul of the Earth and spring Volcanoes and Mountains from the ground, hard enough to lose their wings, scales and fangs and wear the skin of men. Their power spread in the Earth, in our veins and made our history. We, Evains, are a proud but smart people, we will not risk our legacy but we will not toss it in foreign hands as well.”

 

Draconis let his stormy grey eyes pass on every face before finally stop to meet the vicious red gaze of one Lord Voldemort. “The vassalage will ensure our protection and security against foreign threats but will not guarantee our independence. In favor of ensuring the Evensoles independence from the other realms inside of the Empire, I vouched to answer the Emperor’s first request.” Several gasps resonated in the assembly and the King raised his hand to get the silence back, staring at the distraught look of the Old Serpent with satisfaction.“The Evensoles will render the escapee Lord Voldemort to the Empire of Saurænia and _would not repeat_ the mistakes of the King Lux’Cian,” he achieved his speech, leaving everyone gaping.

 

This night, the young King Draconis II made his first step in the nest of vipers of Royal Court and struck with Dragon’s fangs, establishing himself as one of the toughest opponents of the power hunt when he demolished one of the Major Chess Pieces. Voldemort was only loyal to himself and far too dangerous for the kingdom. After Riddle’s demise, no one would be able to say that the King of the Evains did not care for his people. The loyalty of absolutely every member of the Court was unobtainable but, matching the Emperor’s ways, Draconis will do better by rising fear in them to the point that they will be unable to strike than trying to gather their love at short notice. Over the years, the last Dragon’s Blood became quite skilled to twist the lines of the truth and use the lies as his blade, Voldemort’d ought to manipulate him as he did with the King of Light and paid the prize of his own arrogance with the King of Ice.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was a common occurrence to see the King make his way in the crypts to pay his respects to the dead. Notably, to visit his mother, Lady Narcissa. Two weeks had passed by the time the king’s procession was ready to depart after the King’s announcement. The royal messenger sent to the Lion’s Den previously was to reach the Emperor’s Palace in Western Saurænia - the territory of Gryffindor’s Kingdom before it became an Empire - in the next few days. Tonight, passing the statue of the great Salazar Slytherin who guarded the entrance of the dungeons, the King did not visit the crypts but went deep down to the cells.

 

His long silver cloak was gliding soundlessly on the stone floor as he descended by the cold stairs and the night guards greeted him in front of the heavy door leading to the prisoners with a polite bow. A torch in the hand, Draconis ignored the others criminals, still sleeping in their cells and walked right away towards the last cell. In front of the iron bars, he peered at the shadowy figure of Tommen Riddle. Sitting on the floor in the middle of a pulsing runic circle engraved by the members of the Opal Temple, he was held captive, his powers sucked away by the circle.

 

The Sorcerers of the Opal Order did not have the impressive magic skills of the pure Saurænians but they did have their own tricks with runes, enchanted beverages and rituals under the moonlight. The red eyes of the Old Serpent flashed open when he hung his torchlight on the nearest wall.

 

“My,” he breathed. “To whom do I owe this unpleasant visit?”

 

Draconis took off his hood in response, unhiding his shiny silver hair.

 

“The King himself, of course. Who else?”

 

“I have come to propose you one last alliance, Lord Voldemort,” the Dragon’s blood softly revealed and the wizard snorted audibly.

 

“The young Dragon is only loyal to himself,” he hissed disdainfully. “Only a fool would trust him twice.”

 

“Only those who want to live would trust him twice,” the King retorted unfazed, then he leaned down to whisper viciously. “Do you really wish to die by the hand of the Dreadful Conqueror, Sir? They say that he makes people beg to die. They say that he collects the skulls of his enemies to decorate his own throne.”

 

Draconis took a step back, torch lights swirling on his silver cloak as he turned around gracefully to leave. “But if you don’t want to seize the opportunity I offer you, I will gladly let you end up as a skull for the Emperor to sit on.”

 

“Wait!” He shouted and the young King smirked, waiting without looking back. “I will never let myself be thrown right into the Lion’s Maw, Your Grace. But I will do my best to serve both of our interests,” promised Voldemort as the old snake he was. He had always seemed right at his place among the Slytherins. Draco briefly wondered if the rumors about him having some Slytherin’s blood were actually true.

 

“Then listen carefully,” he murmured, starting to expose the next step of his plan.

 

* * *

 

 

With his hair fluttered by the morning breeze, a clouded sky over them, Draconis observed his surroundings. Most of the Castle’s people were present to the King’s departure, a noisy gathering with nobles and commoners alike. The young King was covered in heavy garments to keep away the cold, in the heart of winter, the grounds were almost pristine white with the constant falling snow. On his head, the delicate silver crown of Salazar glimmered with the emeralds encrusted and his light silver gloves matched his pale apparel as his long and thick green cloak was the only touch of color of his outfit, the warm fabric was embroidered with silver tulips shining slightly in daylight.

 

The Royal Carriage - waiting for him - was an ostentatious sight, a clever mix between Lux’Cian’s love of opulence and the usefulness required for traveling. Even if he could have taken with him some of his direct siblings on this diplomatic stay, the King had refused, crushing any hope in Scorpius to see if the numerous rumors running on the Old Saurænia were true. He chose instead to keep only his best guards and servants, including one of his best advisors, the High-Maester Severus and the Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Blaithin.

 

In front of the gates, all his direct relatives were aligned with a solemn look on their face, the King had assigned the care of his Kingdom to them, they were to prove themselves trustworthy. Draconis had named his older brother - Theoden - Chief of the Armies two weeks prior after Tommen Riddle’s imprisonment, his brother was an excellent strategist and one of the smartest man he ever knew. Unlike himself, Theoden had followed zealously his sword training as a child and if he wasn’t a man of politics but a man of sciences, he was a good fighter and a smart leader.

 

Following his ancestors rules, the King Lux’Ciun had wanted all his sons trained but Draco had not shown any skills with swords, his weapon of choice had been the daggers. He mastered the use of daggers to perfection, flashing them in a split second and his preys always had barely the time to draw a breath before they were slashed open. Pansy had been the most skilled with a bow back then, even though, it wasn’t expected from her to laid a finger on a weapon and even less to train along with her little brothers, she did and became the best archer. Parvan favored the spear above all, a southern weapon, from her mother’s lands and his twin wasn’t a fighter at all, Zacharya was good enough with a sword, sticking to the traditions like no one before him, he would have accepted no less than the weapons of his ancestors and Scorpius was following his steps, even he’d showed very good skills as an archer, he will probably chose several weapons in growth.

 

On his way towards them, Draconis caught Ceremyr’s babbling - or trying to - with the kitten in her arms near her father and when she waved at him with a wide grin, he smiled back at her.

 

“You should smile more often,” Pansilira sighed as he neared her. “You would catch so many hearts with those dimples of yours.”

 

Draco turned around to look at her, diving in the dark pools of her doe’s eyes. His smile faded away slowly as seriousness fell over his features, he spread his arms with intent. The elder child didn’t wait to join his embrace with a sigh.

 

“The Kingdom is yours, Regent. I know that no one will take better care of our family in my absence,” he murmured, feeling her smirk when she replied to him.

 

“I love you too, Brother.”

 

She pulled away and bowed down, letting him have a final word with the others. As he bade them farewell, Scorpius tried one last time to convince him to take him on his travel, Lunæria wished him to have the Moon enlightening his way in Old Saurænia and bowed awkwardly afterwards, her slender body hindered by a flourish blue winter dress and white furs coat.

Theoden and Hermione a curt bow together with perfect gestures, wishing him graciously to have his ways with the Emperor and Zacharya in his flamboyant dark purple outfit asked him to not take too long to come back and make a Duke of him, the mole beside his mouth somehow making him look even more arrogant. The threatening look he received from his older sibling was the only thing who made him bow down correctly. Draconis mentally rolled his eyes as he turned to look into two pairs of mercury beads, gazes which were so much like his own. Padmary and Parvan shot him mischievous smiles as they bowed, immediately requesting exotic gifts from his journey, saurænian books and jewels for Padmary, weapons and garments for Parvan.

 

“I will have someone buying them for me,” he promised, seeing their hopeful expressions as he returned to his carriage.

 

Just before he climbed the steps separating him from his side, he spotted one of the grooms petting a stallion with a dark robe. The King waved at him and immediately the young man came to him with a confused look on his face, he had the reflex to bow properly this time though.

 

“Get inside, you come with us.” With this order, he entered the carriage.

 

The only person inside was the High Maester Severus who he asked to keep him company as he allowed none of his family to come with him. When the lad entered, the Sorcerer lifted an eyebrow in surprise but didn’t comment on the fact that he should be with the other servants, the guard outside closed the door behind him. The King sat near the window, watching as Octavius stood awkwardly in the cabin and gestured at the stuffed bench facing him.

 

“Well, sit down unless you don’t mind staying like that until we reach Queen Harbor?”

 

The man bumped his head into the carriage's roof when he moved, and it took just that for Draco to realize how tall he was. The High Maester sneered at him when he sat, just in time to feel the carriage moving. Octavius seemed quite overwhelmed by his actual situation and that was probably why he didn’t react to the Sorcerer’s disdain. Draconis didn’t particularly feel the need to reaffirm his rank but that was about to change as soon as he rested a toe in Western Saurænia. On this light, he smiled taking Pansilira’s subtle advice. He should use all the hearts he could get, after all.

 

The trip in the carriage would only take few hours to Queen Harbor and there a ship was waiting for them. To reach the Western Saurænia, the Royal convoy will have to pass the naturals boundaries excluding the Evensoles from the rest of the Continent and between the Mountains ranges in the North and the Sunset Sea separating them from the Empire in the South, traveling by sea was the easiest way to get to the Emperor's Palace. To join Queen Harbor, they were to pass through the Dragon’s Hill which was a relatively peaceful area in Ev' Dracaenas.

 

Draconis let his eyes roll over the groom and was relieved to see him dressed like the other servants.

 

“How old are you, Octavius?” He broke the silence as well as the young man’s silent observation of his surroundings.

 

“Eighteen, Sire.”

 

“Hmm, I have a brother about your age. Do you also think you are too old for sweets?”

 

The servant shook his head and smiled politely in thanks when the King handed him a red metal box of confectionery, knowing that it would be rude to refuse them. He took a piece of chocolate and ate it, a stunned expression rapidly overcoming his sun-kissed features, probably tasting the hidden fruit in it. Draconis did not propose any of them to the maester, the man hated anything with an unhealthy quantity of sugar or honey in it.

 

“Do you like them?” He asked, just to be sure he wasn’t force-feeding the servant as the young man was avoiding looking at him right in the eyes.

 

“I do, Your Grace.”

 

“You may be honest, Octavius. This is to be an Evenian gift to the Emperor’s younger children, I should know beforehand if they are not appreciated.”

 

“They’re good,” he assured and Draco was pleased to see the dark blue eyes meet his gaze. The boy had his warm brown hair cut short and had his jaw shaved properly unlike the first time he showed inside the castle. Having suffered spying for long years, the King had the intent to know how much a servant can learn in only two weeks inside and how much informations he can sell if his loyalty was to others.

 

“You can keep it if you want to,” he offered the tinted metal box with a wave and leaned back against the back of the bench, peeking at the Maester to see him reading a handwritten grimoire. “Now, I would really like to know how much you learnt on the castle and his residents in the past weeks.”

 

The young man was obviously reluctant to say much but after an hour of being gently coaxed into disclosing his new knowledge, the words started to come easily as he revealed some of the quarrels between the other servants, the habits of the other Lords he served in the day and his tasks around the castle. Listening to him, Draconis realized that he was a fast learner and had easily adapted to the Court’s customs and life with the High society members. Octavius revealed himself to be far more smart and attentive than he looked but he admitted missing his job as the caretaker of the horses and hoped that his younger brother will recover fast. From wise guarded at the beginning, he became more friendly when he realized that the King meant no harm to him. Draco deemed Octavius to be genuinely kindhearted and honest.

 

When the Royal convoy finally reached Queen Harbor, it was only a matter of few hours before they were all in the ship including luggages and traditional gifts brought for the Emperor’s family. The vessel matched the Slytherins taste as he was large and impressive in size and beauty. The wind gushed in the masts as they left Queen Harbor with the flapping banners showing a silver dragon and a green snake from the heights. The ship’s figurehead was a dragon’s head carvedin iron with black stone's eyes and the King admired from the deck, the sight of the waves crashing against the hull of the ship. A salty smell filling his nose, he closed his eyes enjoying the fresh sea air for the time being.

 

“My King?”

 

Draco glanced behind him, seeing the High Maester coming towards his spot. They had been traveling for days by now, the sailors of their crew were experienced and the Captain Alastor was redeemed for his skills in navigation around the whole Continent. The young King could feel the weather warming as they go further in the south before turning to the west. On the other side of the sea the impressive sight of the Phoenix Mountain guarding the west river was slowly coming to them, from a little peak, it was slowly filling the blue sky.

 

“Octavius is still bedridden?” He asked, knowing that the poor man was a victim of seasickness. The King wouldn’t have demanded him to come if he had known, but the horse's boy probably never laid a toe on a ship before though.

 

The Sorcerer snorted audibly and nodded, he looked at the heavens over them with a thoughtful before he sighed. “I do hope you are certain of what you are doing, my King.”

 

Draconis looked back at him, surprised by the worried tone of his voice. He saw the light of the locket in his hand and cast it an appraising look. “I guess you finished to work on it.”

 

It was an ancestral family heirloom, the Locket of Salazar Slytherin, the King had it sent to the High Maester to have some of their mysterious protective runes engraved on it. The Sorcerer handed him the golden locket and Draconis passed it around his neck. He took it in his hand, looking at the snake in its center forming an 'S' and whispered something so low that it sounded like the wind blowing through dead leaves in autumn. The locket opened and revealed an empty secret storage. The King took the white berry out of its silky pouch and inserted it in the locket which closed itself afterwards. He caught the staggered look on the Maester’s face.

 

“I know what I am doing Severus, have no worries.”

 

The High Maester gave him a last nod before he left, letting him back at his silent contemplation of the waters.

 

The sky was dark when he returned to his private cabin to sleep after having contemplated the sunset from the Sea. He let his buried thoughts resurface in private and invade him. There are so many ways for his schemes to fail him but he didn’t let his fears hinder his decisions. It would work. The young King lay down on his bed with a soft sigh after blowing the candle, rocked by the waves, he looked through the porthole above his bed. Before he ended by closing his eyes, they fell on the silky pouch hanging on the wall.

 

The young King was sound asleep when it started. The ship was nearing the Trident, a very large river crossing the Sunset Sea from the south to meander all around the Empire in a forked form which gave it its name, splitting in three in the middle of the west to join the three Oceans. Over the Trident’s side was looming the lonely Phoenix Mountain. He woke up, startled, searching in the darkness what could have interrupted his rest when he felt it. The change in the air, it felt like their ship was breaching the doors of another realm, another world. Something heavy, it fell on the ship like an invisible mist of vibrant energy who shook his whole being.

 

Peering out by the porthole, he saw the ship leaving the Sunset Sea to cross the Trident and officially navigating in Saurænian territory. The King did not doubt that the change in air startled awake half of the people in their cabins. He was still looking at the dark waters, lightened only by the moon and the ship’s lights, when he heard it. A wild singing, running among the waves, it sounded like hundreds of voices jumping on each other and dulling everything on the earth that wasn’t that sound. Then hell broke down as people started screaming above him. The walls weren’t thick enough with the wood constantly creaking as the waves hit the hull and when astonished voices started to resonate from everywhere, he stood to light his candles and listened carefully, hearing people claiming having seen ‘Sirens’ around the ship. He had already reached out for his cloak when the guards knocked to his door. Hastily dressing, he opened to see Ser Blaithin and a sailor without caring of his disheveled aspect as he didn’t even bother by putting on his crown.

 

“What is happening?” He demanded, looking behind them to see other sailors running to join the deck.

 

“There is something in those waters, Sire,” the sailor answered before Ser Blaithin could even say a word. “Something you won’t believe before you see it from your very eyes.” He turned then, taking the huge lantern sitting by the King’s cabin door and left. Sill bewildered by words, the last Dragon’s blood followed quickly after him, curiosity swelling in him like a balloon, with the Commander close behind him, hand at his sword.

 

Up the stairs, they had to face the nervous crowd of people running wildly around, the strangely mesmerizing singing was even more powerful on the deck. The King had a difficult time to focus but when he saw the men affected by the singing voices, he knew something was wrong, Ser Blaithin was tumbling dazedly beside him as he walked towards the nearest guardrail. Leaning dangerously, he caught the movement under the waters and his eyes widened when he saw the creatures dancing around the waves, half fish half woman, their scales were reflecting the moonlight and Draco suddenly remembered a tale that Pandora - Lunæria’s mother - had read to them when they were children.

 

_The Sailor and the Siren’s song._

 

His realization was broken by the Captain Alastor’s sudden outburst, he was above the Captain’s cabin on the highest deck speaking with an abnormally booming voice.

 

“EASTERNERS LISTEN TO MY VOICE!” he bellowed as if shouting to one a mile away, getting everyone’s attention, the sailor they saw previously was lightening him with the lantern. “I know most of you never reached the Old Saurænia before tonight but most of the tales and legends you heard as a child come to life on the Magical Lands of the First Mages,” he explained in a serene and deep voice who calmed most of them. “The Sirens will do you no harm if you ignore them and their singing. My crew will get you all back in your quarters peacefully, get to the closer stairs. The sea creatures will go back under the waters once they lose your attention.”

 

As the crowd receded steadily, the King joined the Captain who was surveying his sailors moves near the mizzenmast. When he spotted him coming with Ser Blaithin on his trail, the man straightened himself.

 

“I won’t ask you if you’re a Saurænian because you obviously are, but I want to know if you are a wizard,” the King drawled at him.

 

The man waited for his sailors to walk away before he showed his intentionally hidden wand, proof of his gift. Draconis pursed his lips but didn’t comment, the Evains weren’t known to be an open-minded people but they were on a diplomatic mission, it would have been unfit to show disdain or hatred towards a wizard.

 

“A pure Saurænian, I assume.” Alastor Moody nodded, vanishing the wand in his sailor’s colorful garments. “Tell me, Captain. How much of these sort of incidents are likely to happen during our journey? I do not wish to have my people traumatized.”

 

“Well,” he replied, stroking his braided ginger beard. “The Magical Lands are known to be tricky with strangers but your path is relatively safe here on the Trident, I can’t say it would have been the same if you had chosen to go down through the Empire’s main road. The magical beings in those waters only attack the people stupid enough to swim near their homes. They did not touch the sailors but as you have seen the Sirens Show, they will still try to convince the men to jump in the waters for them.”

 

“What happened to the entranced men who jumped before?” The High Maester asked, startling them slightly as no one had seen his arrival.

 

The captain shot him a wary look before he answered gruffly to the question.

 

“The Sirens eat them or use them to increase their number, for what I know.”

 

Draco shuddered in disgust - unable to contain his reaction this time - and took his leave, letting the Captain return at his doings. On his way back, he had the feeling that this country was far from finished to shock them all. Ser Blaithin assigned two guards to his quarters and wished him goodnight. Scorpius would have probably loved meeting the Sirens, and Lunæria would have sold her hair to see them too. With those thoughts in mind, he sat behind his desk and resigned himself to draw and provide details of what he had just seen in a journal.

 

Accordingly, the rest of the travel had been peaceful. They did encounter other strange creatures but most of them were fantastic beasts which captivated people’s attention from far. They crossed beds of golden flying fishes and giant octopuses who both scared and amazed the crew. Draconis did learn that the Captain was the only wizard but his crew was made up of men coming from everywhere around the world. It was astonishing how the sea breath affected his people, they were more joyous and carefree almost radiant. Even the dour High Maester was seen socializing on the deck, his interest for the knowledge he could acquire from the sailors and the Captain had him leaving his private room more than once to converse with them. Verbenas under the moonlight had been set up for the people to sat together and enjoy the sailors stories, the King agreed to them, happy to see his people — servants, guards and advisors alike — enjoying their journey. Some nights, the sailors initiated some parties where sea shanty and dancing were running with exotic beverages and evenian alcohols. The King himself had lost many night’s sleep to those verbenas and parties, reluctantly enjoying the boisterous persona of the sailors. His father would have been a fish in waters with them. He couldn’t help but feel bad for not allowing his siblings to come, he was certain that they would have greatly enjoyed the experience. He smirked when he saw Loreta and Octavius getting along over time, the man was still a little green but the sailors had given him a beverage to settle his stomach.

 

Meanwhile, the young King was still unsettled by how much missed his siblings. Granted he had never travelled this far from home before, but he had never expected the feeling to be so powerful. Ser Blaithin was good company though as well as his advisors, the High Maester and his appointed ambassadors Amycus and Alecto Carrow, they needed only one ambassador to join the Emperor’s Court but the twins Carrows were peculiar as they always claimed to be connected like two parts of the same soul who would never be content without being whole, that was the reason the King Draconis will come in Old Saurænia with two ambassadors instead of one. The two nobles had shown their disdain for the magical practices but were, fortunately, the best performers of the Eastern Kingdom, able to conceal and show emotions at will. Alecto was a wicked woman but the King enjoyed her dark humor and her brother if less of a smooth talker was the most daring of the pair. He was the one was dared to introduce his King to a new popular mixture among the artists and thinkers of the South, the opium. It was his youth who persuaded them to share their discovery with him and the High Maester had violently disapproved the substance as it could because of sickness and death misused but Draconis had been curious about the effects. Usually consumed to ‘relax’ people and make them happier. The twins spoke about delusions, they claimed that it was the doorway of an intense sensory experience, vivid dreams and some people even claimed to have seen the past, the future or their dead loved ones. Although they didn’t clearly ask for it, it was obvious that the Family Carrow wanted to make a market of it in the East to enrich their family, if the King forbad it, they would have to go against the law and risk themselves the death of their name.

 

The young King had kept a bottle of the green liquid, the rules of its use had been abundantly clear as the substance was extremely toxic. On drop for a trip, two for sickness and three for death. Draconis had absolutely no intent to intoxicate his people with such product, that for sure but his well-known curiosity led him to a trial. One night as they bordered the Lion’s Bay leaving the mystical Trident behind them, not far from the Gryffindors Fleet. They already crossed several war galleys guarding the Lion’s Bay which led directly to the Celestial Ocean on the west coastline and it will not take too long for them to reach the Emperor’s Palace who had been built on a large hill near the west coast.

 

After getting ready for sleep, while combing his silver hair, he reached out for the tiny glass bottle resting on the nightstand. He had Loreta washing his hair before to help him to relax and knew that he would doze off as soon as his head touched the pillow. Using a stick, he took a drop of the green substance and lay down comfortably on the mattress. He didn’t remember having closed his eyes but opened them with a frown when he felt something touching his leg. Gasping when he saw a body of dark green scales of several meters in length sliding on the bed, he froze at the sight of the snake looming over him. It hissed at him, split tongue darting out with a frantic pace, and when he tried shakily to move back the beast suddenly leapt forward ripping a frightened scream out of his throat. Draconis felt himself falling backwards but didn’t found the bed behind him, he fell into an abyss, the winds gushing around him. The snake was nowhere in sight as darkness surrounded him for what seemed like hours when a wailing pierced the silence, he crashed abruptly feeling his guts smashed on the ground, fighting to get back his breath, he looked up and saw blood on his hands and all over his nightclothes. He was bleeding. His body tensed and goosebumps spread over his skin as an unnatural coldness fell upon him. Movement caught the corner of his eye and it took him several minutes to comprehend what he was seeing. He perked up, his pulse racing as his eyes locked on the distorted body slowly crawling towards him. A disfigured woman who wasn’t unknown to him, his throat tightened as he looked at the dead woman. Her skin was falling apart, seeming rotten and her limbs contorted atrociously with her movements, when she spoke, her voice made him cringe. A tearing sound between a cry of agony and enraged scream, she locked her dead eyes to his and only then, the King realized that she had stopped moving.

 

“Come my little dragon,” she growled inhumanly through a half-collapsed jaw and his blood turned into ice. “This is your mother.”

 

She reached out and Draco stared appalled, his hand moving of its own to met her at midway. When both rotten and bloody skins gruesomely touched each other, picturing life and death crudely, her appearance slowly changed before his eyes. The King found himself looking right into the pale blue eyes of his mother, her blonde locks flowing around her body like amber waterfalls.

 

Narcissa smiled kindly at him. “I wish I could be alive to help you, my son,” she said, her voice somewhat still full and heavy but possessing the softness of a caress. It was like she was speaking through a thin wall of glass, the wall between life and death. He reached out again and this time, he felt it. The wall separating them had taken form and his bloodied hand let a red handprint on the cold glass.

 

“Are you still trying to avenge me?” Narcissa asked when he rested his head heavily on the wall. He was cold, chilled to the bone and his body was shaking violently with both shudders and repressed rage and pain.

 

“I can’t,” he breathed shakily, fighting to conceal his raw emotion which seemed an impossible task at this exact moment. Slowly, he took off his bloodied hand from the cold glass. “I will never be able to do it by myself. Others tried, then failed and so will I.”

 

“You don’t have to do it by yourself,” she said and it was like every time she tells him that before. During all his life, she had pampered him and repeated the same sentence at every single one of his failures.

 

_‘It’s okay, sweetheart. You won’t have to do it by yourself anyway.’_

 

_‘Don’t tire yourself, others will do it for you when you’ll grow up.’_

 

“I already know that,” he said, slowly rising to his feet. “But this time, nobody can do it.”

 

_Yet._

 

When he woke up dizzy and nauseous the next morning, Draconis tossed the bottle overboard, promising to never allow such a thing in his country. His dream far from leaving him grateful or contented had left him enraged and devastated. Better to leave the dead in its own realm. He passed the rest of the journey, haunted by the distorted face of his mother and the enormous snake trying to kill him. And when they finally reached Gold Harbor, someone of the crew yelled to cast anchor and he was probably the only one happy to set a foot on earth after weeks on waters. Well, Octavius was also relieved but for different reasons, the horse boy had enjoyed most his nights on the ship once he got his beverage but was still in better shape on the ground. The dock was full of warships as the naval power of the Empire was settling there, the merchant ships looking like little boats near them. Once, they berthed and found themselves carried to the Emperor’s Palace on Godric’s Hill, just beside the cliffs opening them to the Celestial Ocean.

 

Alecto and Amycus kept him company this time, conscientiously reminding him of the proceedings and rules of etiquette in the Palace. His ambassador had done an incredibly good work of researches, the magical practitioners were so much different than them. Where most of the Evains worshipped the Moon, the Sun and the Dragons Spirits, the westerners had so much different magical populations that each people have their own divinities. The Sirens worshipped their god, the King of Oceans, Poseidon. The Giants had the Titans as gods and goddesses. The Centaurs believed in forest spirits and were said to read the future in the sky. The Wizards, however, were more complicated, they believed in forest spirits for the druids among them but a large part them only held in high regard the most powerful men and women of their civilization, the First Mages. Thinking that their power had permitted them to turn some of them into gods like the famous Merlin but some people doubted that such a powerful being even existed. They were also wizards who followed the Moon and Sun’s rules of the Opal Temples as the Opal Monks were scattered all around the world but none believed like the Evains in the Ancestors Spirits, the First Dragons.

 

They also weren’t the only ones coming to the Emperor’s Palace as the other peoples had sent a delegate for this important diplomatic gathering. The two other great Kingdoms had their own members in the Emperor’s Court but each had sent a representative of their Royal Family for the negotiations. From Ilvenia, the King Edgar’s sister was sent the Duchess Amelia of Blackbones who took with her the actual Crown Princess Suzanna, the only child of the Queen Seraphina. The nobles Ilvenian inserted in the Emperor’s Court once their Kingdom became vassal long ago were the Scamanders and the family was well settled for having married witches, the Scamanders were known to be blood-related to the Hufflepuffs.

 

“The representative of Edarion’s Royal Family will be the Crown Prince Terence. The Queen Rowena VII and her Consort had chosen Hui Wei Chang to join the Emperor’s Court after their insertion in the Empire and he came several years prior with his wife Zhen Zhu Chang,” Alecto explained carefully. “His daughter, Cho Chang, is often seen at the gatherings as she is expected to take his place in due time. They are both known for their good skills in speech.”

 

“Upon our arrival, they will give us the rest of the day to settle and meet the Emperor but a great feast will probably be set up very soon to celebrate the forthcoming death of the Betrayer, Lord Voldemort,” she added when their carriage get slower.

 

The King nodded as their carriage finally stopped, the guards opened the door and the Emperor’s Palace come before their eyes, literally taking their breath away. It was an impressive structure looming over them like a little mountain. The Palace was truly a sight to behold, the King thought. So different of the Gothic Castles of Evensoles, the Palace was large in both width and height, all pristine white with wide pillars, great statues and fountains. It was grand with white rose bushes bordering the neat driveway from the gates to the doors which in themselves were splendid with two enormous roaring Lions guarding the white steps they had to climb to join the Entrance Hall, open for all to see with several fountains scattered on large free space. A large pool was present inside with turquoise blue mosaic on its walls and behind the two biggest carved pillars, a mosaic fresco showed a colorful Fire Bird soaring in the blue sky, its feathers were from hundreds of different shades of red, orange and gold.

 

“It’s a Phoenix, my King. The Wizards hold the legendary bird in high regard,” the High Maester commented when he saw him stopping his tracks at the art work’s sight. “A beautiful creature, isn’t it? It represents Wisdom but is also a symbol of Renewal, Power and Strength. It’s not surprising that the Emperor chose it as his totem because their legends say that it came to life with the very First Mages.” Draconis tore off his eyes from the fresco to look at his advisor. There was something deeper in his eyes, a sort of longing that he couldn’t quite understand. But he supposed that each Sorcerer of the Opal Temples come to a day where they regret to not have been born as a wizard.

 

He followed the servants of the Palace given to him to acclimate his own servants to the Palace’s rules, they were all very light-footed and well-prepared, all showing the same garments, short tunics and trousers of a soft beige color. He was led to his private apartments to be settled before they met the Emperor and his Family and the young King was relieved to have several free hours before him. The corridors were as beautiful as the rest of the Palace, the one they took opened after few steps and they had sight on the inner gardens below them. The South-West of Old Saurænia was quite warm, they had left the snow of North-East for a cloudy bur warm weather. And the gardens, full of life, with colorful plants, matched the temperate climate. His eyes catch the feathers of one or two peacocks wandering below them near a flat fountain as integral parts of the place. The wizards assigned his guards to the wing of the Palace given to them and took away almost all his servants with them, leaving him only Loreta at his express demand when they left him in his quiet apartments with several new servants still turning around to settle his belongings.

 

Feeling a bit unnerved, he asked for a bath and one of the head servants led him and Loreta to the water room where a large bath welcomed them in the middle of a room entirely tiled with light blue and white mosaic with various mirrors on the walls. He observed warily as the head servant murmured something under his breath and throw with a large gesture the perfumed oils in the clear water which warmed increasingly. He heard Loreta sharp intake as she looked with wide eyes the Saurænian do his magic.

 

The head servant took a step back and bowed before him. “My name is Olympia and I have been tasked to introduce the King of Evensoles to our ways and to help him and his people. I would be honored to serve you for the remainder of your stay in the Emperor’s Palace,” he said elegantly, his bobbed hairstyle giving a charming look. The man looked quite young with his curly chestnut hair but Draconis couldn’t guess as he was obviously a wizard and they were known for having the longest lives of all the peoples; even the weaker of them.

 

“You may raise, Olympia,” he replied with a gesture before turning to his own servant. “This is Loreta, my handmaiden.” he introduced her as the girl was already working around the bath. “She is the most skilled of my servants, if you’re to stay with us you’ll have to work with her. How many servants do you have under your direction?”

 

“Three, Sire,” answered Olympia before joining Loreta in work. “They are preparing your bedroom,” he added, showing his back when Draconis started to undress.

 

“When are we supposed to meet the Emperor?” He asked, sliding in the warm waters with a blissful sigh.

 

“His Majesty the Emperor of Saurænia will meet the Eastern King in the late afternoon at four in the Throne Room,” Olympia declared before turning around when he heard him getting inside in the bath. From then, Olympia and Loreta washed and pampered him until he was refreshed and new. He was at first wary of Olympia, but the young man rarely made use of magic in his presence and did not sort out his wand at all. To the point that the Eastern King even doubted he actually had one.

 

They passed a long time searching for the right robes in his belongings, Olympia who was at the beginning very formal started to show his personality when he suggested wearing red because it was the Emperor’s favorite color. Loreta - shockingly enough - almost jumped on him when she retorted that her King should wear a beautiful attire and certainly not try to match the Palace’s scenery.

 

Then, Draconis rapidly realized that she was feeling menaced by the new addition on what had been her sole territory for a long time which was ridiculous, the girl was an Evain and Olympia a mere stranger. Why was she so fond of him, he had no idea but he sure appreciated that sort of devotion.

 

“Alright,” Olympia conceded looking unfazed and his dark blue eyes paused on the thick green cloak embroidered with silver tulips. “What about an emerald green outfit?”

 

Loreta smiled seemingly pleased this time, her blonde ponytail bouncing with her excited movements. “Do you agree, my King? The green is the color of your banner.”

 

Draconis - who was sipping fresh lemon juice as there was no wine with the food brought to him - caught the playful look of Olympia and wondered briefly what this was all about.

 

“I got an emerald dressmaking for last Yule,” he replied, shrugging off the thought.

 

“Oh,” Olympia said in a way who reminded him Lunæria. “You missed the Yule Ball but the Emperor usually make a Festival for Imbolc with all the Court’s members because the snowfall starts only then in the West. This upcoming Imbolc Festival promises to be quite a sight with all the foreign royals around the Palace.”

 

“Oooh,” Loreta squealed and the King managed to not roll his eyes. “This is so exciting!”

 

Once they made their choice, Loreta along with Olympia started to work on his apparel. They chatted like they knew each other forever and Draco was surprised to see how much their journey made a talky person of his servant. When she started to relate the sailors stories and the creatures they saw, he knew that he could say goodbye to his silence even if he wanted her to hush. Her happiness was contagious. They worked with enthusiasm on his hair, with Loreta showing the way they had them dressed back home and Olympia giving her his best suggestions. His behavior had him soon convincing Loreta to share the care of her King. When they were done, Loreta finishing to powder his nose lightly, Olympia brought a mirror and put it in front of him.

 

“A stunning sight, indeed.” The Saurænian servant whispered, looking at the foreign King before he gets out of his way.

 

Draconis locked his eyes on his reflection and found himself amazed by the beauty of their work. His hairstyle only was a meticulous artwork. Loreta had clearly outdone herself to show off this time, he thought after seeing her smug expression. The velvet shades of green seemed to fall graciously around his legs and hide the thin trousers beneath as the rich and colorful velvet garments on his upper half were snugly fitted with very light silver patterns embroidered on them. His eyes, when he looked at them, seemed deeper somehow and more entrancing. The outfit showed more skin that he remembered but he didn’t put too much thought on it as the weather was still warm there. His hair seemed to grow impossibly long the more you looked at it and the southern braids pulling his hair backwards looked like thick silver leaves in their patterns as they met and cross each other on his head. They had his hair waving on his back and two slightly curled locks flanking the sides of his face, making him look softer and prettier than he actually was. A good thing since he had to look the more inconspicuous and less threatening possible to the Emperor’s Court. The emeralds of his crown, _Salazar’s Crown_ , gleaming on his forehead matched his outfit perfectly, making him carry with such poise that his youthfulness was utterly forgotten.

 

_He looked mighty._

 

“I think I ought to congratulate you, Loreta. And you as well, Olympia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a major change of scenery. We’re in Old Saurænia now and Slytherin’s Locket showed itself. I wonder what Draco is up to this time.
> 
> So many new characters and still others to come… In the next chapter Draconis will meet the Imperial Family. For now, I remind you the new informations gathered in the last chapters below.
> 
> — The Hufflepuffs —
> 
> King Edgar (Edgar Bones): Ruler of Ilvenia, father of Princess Suzanna.
> 
> Queen Seraphina (Seraphina Bones): Spouse of King Edgar, mother of the Princess Suzanna.
> 
> Princess Suzanna (Susan Bones): Crown Princess of Ilvenia, unless they produce a son.
> 
> Duchess of Blackbones (Amelia Bones): Sister of King Edgar, their parents gave her Lands as a wedding gift.
> 
> — The Ravenclaws —
> 
> Queen Rowena VII: Ruler of Edarion, mother of Prince Terence. Her Consort is still unknown.
> 
> Prince Terence (Terry Boot): Crown Prince of Edarion.
> 
> — The Slytherins —
> 
> Pansilira Slytherin (Pansy Parkinson): Elder child of the late King Lux’Cian, married to William Weasley and mother of Ceremyr Weasley. She is 25.
> 
> Theoden Slytherin (Theodore Nott): Second child of the late King Lux’Cian. Husband of Hermione Slytherin nee Granger. No children known. He is 24.
> 
> King Draconis II (Draco Malfoy): Third child of the late King Lux’Cian and current Ruler of the Evensoles. Last Dragon’s blood of the Slytherins dynasty. It’s expected of him to produce others Dragon’s blood in a near future. He is 19.
> 
> Lunæria Slytherin (Luna Lovegood): Forth child of the late King Lux’Cian and unmarried. She is 19.
> 
> Zacharya Slytherin (Zacharias Smith): Fifth child of the late King Lux'Cian and too young to be married. He is 17.
> 
> Padmary and Parvan Slytherin (Parvati and Padma Patil): Sixth and seventh children of the late King Lux’Cian. Too young to be married, they are 15.
> 
> Scorpius Slytherin (Scorpius Malfoy): Last child of the King Lux’Cian, he is only 11.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this.


	3. III. The Snake's Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Draconis is among the Saurænians, he get to know the Imperial Family and get through the steps necessary to the execution of his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you ever feel like you were writing bullshit? Like your work was kinda bad?
> 
> Well, 10 persons liked it (kudos). Really, THANK YOU GUYS because it's well enough for me to publish this chapter, just needed a little push. 
> 
> I thought that you would like to know what happens after, right?
> 
> And please, tell me what you thinks of it.
> 
> XX

**The Holy Offspring**

**III. The Snake’s Dance.**

 

* * *

 

 

_In bygone days, a Southern Bard came with a tale._

 

_He told the story of a beautiful stone found by the Vermillion Bird in the Sky._

 

_He told the story of a beautiful stone found by the Blue Dragon in the River._

 

_For years, the Blue Dragon and the Vermillion Bird worked relentlessly on the stone to turn it into a magnificent pearl but one day, they lost it._

 

_In bygone days, a Southern Bard came with a tale._

 

_He told the story of a Vermillion Bird and a Blue Dragon searching during years around the great Sky for a lost pearl._

 

_And when they found it in the Mother Queen’s hands, they fought her to get it back,_

 

_But the pearl fell from their battling grips and when it hit the earth,_

 

_It broke into a Sea, the Sunset Sea._

 

_As neither of them wanted to leave the precious pearl, the Blue Dragon and the Vermillion Bird both sat on the sides of the Sunset Sea and never left._

 

_Thus were born the Dragon’s Hill and the Phoenix Mountain._

 

* * *

 

 

When Goltraigue was four, he had a nightmare. The young prince had found himself in dark place with a deathly silence dulling his senses instead of his bedroom. At first, he called in the void for someone to show and tell him where he was for what seemed to be hours for him but nobody ever answered him, nobody ever came to him. Realizing that he was truly alone, his heartbeat fastened with fear, drumming against his ribcage like thunder so loud that he was unable to focus on anything else. And slowly fear merged in gut wrenching terror as he saw no way to get back home. He started to walk, wandering helplessly in darkness, crying randomly in hope to attract someone with all the noise he was making but still nobody was to be seen around. As his voice died with dryness, Goltraigue became aware of the whispers rising in the shadows and sliding sounds slowly filling the silence, they seemed to come from everywhere. He turned around to find who or what was whispering to him but there was nothing in sight but darkness which only rose his distress even more if possible. When he finally caught a glimpse of light flashing in the dark, he barely had the time to see the large albino snake rising in front of him at eyes level with a threatening posture and to let out a terrified squawk before the beast leapt forewards and struck him.

 

He awoke screaming in his bedroom, still fighting a beast who wasn’t there anymore before the voices of people calling his name pierced through the thick fog of panic confusing his senses and his perception of reality. The doors were abruptly smashed open by his nurse - his old nanny - making him jump startled by the loud noise and he looked up at her, watching as she froze mid-step at the dumbfounding sight.

 

“My Prince, are you—” Her eyes widened drastically as she took in the utter devastation that had fallen on the boy’s bedroom. “Wha…?”

 

“Madam Sprout?” Someone called with hushed tone, his panting discernible as if he had been running to them. Goltraigue instantly recognized his father’s voice and tensed imperceptibly, it was very unusual to hear him running for anything in general.

 

“What happened?” The King asked angrily, pushing past the petrified mid-aged lady. “His screams awoke half of the castle!”

 

“My King, I- I don’t know what happened,” stuttered the nurse but his father who had passed straight beside her, stood frozen altogether. “I thought that the little prince had a nightmare but his room was in this state when I came to him,” she explained nervously when it was clear that the sight before them was causing his father’s deathly silence.

 

“I see,” he barely whispered to her in response without losing eye contact with the damaged bedroom. The windows were wide open as if rocks had crushed the panes, the wind gushing in it was making the curtains wave wildly. Broken glass was scattered around the room along with books, toys and cracked furnishings, the tapestries were barely hanged, ripped into ribbons and the only thing still standing was the bed the wood beneath was cleft in half and absolutely very blankets and cushions were on the floor. “You can leave us, Pomona. I will take care of him.”

 

The nurse bowed and left without delay, casting a last confused look at the destroyed bedroom. And Goltraigue turned his eyes back on his father as he came to him, pushing tattered furnishings out of his way with his slippers. It was the first time, Goltraigue ever saw his father in this state. None of his usual grand attire, no complicate hairstyle, no intricate robes, no jewels, _no crown_. His long silver hair were falling softly around his hips, they were straights, unwavering but still disheveled and messy as he obviously just get out of bed. He was wearing a long gown made of warm peachy silk, without embroideries or silver sewings, they were plain and light and his eyes were still sleepy with a damp brightness in them. His father looked more human that he ever looked before, and his skin without any powder to make it look flawless and paler showed an upturned nose with very well-hidden and unsuspected pale freckles marring it, slightly pink tinged cheeks and very red lips. His father looked over-all much less cold and scary but more fragile, approachable in a very beautiful way that put him at ease, even if the novelty of it was strange. It even made him want to reach out for a hug but he restrained himself because Goltraigue had found out very early that his father could be very scary sometimes and his soft appearance of tonight as a rare treat as it was didn’t change the fact that he’d better to behave in the King’s presence with or without crown. His father sat on the edge of his bed without reacting when the wood creaked and looked at him expectantly.

 

“Well, I can’t say I’m not curious, son. What kind of dream had scared you that much?” He asked nicely enough and the words spilled out of Goltraigue’s mouth even before he was aware of it, depicting nervously his nightmare and the giant snake who tried to eat him whole and his great terror; 'sure that he was going to die alone in the dark'. His father nodded patiently, humming when a reaction was expected and sighed when he was done. The King shifted to get closer and the boy watched as he moved with almost wary eyes, his expression must have amused his father since he snorted with sparkling mercury gray eyes, laying down under the green canopy, his gaze settled on the velvet green roof above the bed.

 

Goltraigue looked up too, acutely aware of his father’s soft hair brushing against his right cheek before the adult spoke. “There’s in our family a legend that say every true Slytherin will meet an snake in their dreams at a major turning point of their life. Some say that it’s our ancestors coming to visit you, some say they come to warn you out of a danger, a bad decision or to guide us back on the right path. If you dreamt of a snake even if it looked quite angry or even vicious, it is still an undeniable proof of the blood running in your veins, child.”

 

The young prince’s eyes widened in amazement at the idea of such a thing. He opened his mouth to tell him something but his father reached out to cup his right cheek in his hand, locking their eyes. The gesture suprised the young prince as his father always seemed to avoid looking too long in his eyes as if he could see something there that Goltraigue wasn’t aware of. “You’re a _true Slytherin_ , Goltraigue and you’re _my_ son.” He told him emphasizing his words to make the point clear as he narrowed his stormy eyes. “And nobody else’s child.”

 

He gulped and nodded, making his father smile slightly with satisfaction as he raised his hand to stroke the boy’s short silver hair. “Did this snake told you anything?” He asked and Goltraigue sent him a funny look as if the idea of a snake talking wasn’t absurd enough before he shook his head. No, the snake didn’t spoke but he had understood what the whispers had been saying to him.

 

“ _Kill him._ There were voices in the shadows, Father. They were saying to me: _‘Kill him before he kill you.’_ ”

 

His father merely hummed, a reaction that was deeply unsettling. Voices were whispering at him to kill someone and his father shrugged it off like it was bad weather they were talking about.

 

“Don’t be scared, Goltraigue,” he sighed, still gently running fingers through his silver hair. “I will always protect you from any ill-intentioned monsters, this is what family do, they protect each other. Now come,” he opened his arms for him to hang on. Awkwardly, Goltraigue felt his father lift him with an unexpected force to have him in a sort of front piggy back like position as he closed his legs around his hips and his arms around his neck with his head resting on his warm chest. “You’re going to sleep with me tonight, it will keep monsters at bay.”

 

Goltraigue mumbled something against his father’s chest that had him chuckling softly and he sighed happily while listening to the soothing thumping of his father’s steady heartbeat, he felt a soft but solid hand tracing circles on his back. He didn’t even saw the High Maester crossing the hallway with his father directing him towards the destroyed bedroom.

 

And he never told his father that the white snake had the same mercury piercing gaze that his father had when he was in a fool mood and who the voices were warning him of, to afraid that he was going to be sent far away in a new bedroom. He hoped that he would never see any other monsters.

 

* * *

 

 

The pure Saurænians had a peculiar fashion sense. The nobles wizards like every nobles fancied showing their wealth and positions in high society but with their magic added in the mix, the results were quite impressive for some of them when the majority only fancied intricate and colorful garments. As the Emperor’s Court was gathered noisily in the Throne Room, waiting for the Emperor to start the open hearing, you could catch the sight of a high hat on Lady Augusta Longbottom's head which was made of a stuffed vulture matching her long dark purple dress flowing around her body like a crepuscular mist. Lord Xenophilius Lovegood was entirely covered in turquoise with an Occamy on his shoulder, the light pink and turquoise feathers of the serpentine bird matching his outfit perfectly and his wife, Lady Adelaide, was dressed with a long gown of pristine white feathers, little doves were sitting obediently over her pale summer straw hat.

 

The Emperor’s first advisor, Albus Dumbledore, was standing near the Golden Throne in long sunny yellow robes with blue hummingbirds embroidered on it and actually spelled to fly all around the cloth, his long white beard and hair were braided with copper beads. Lady Sinistra’s dress was a long dark veil with every known constellations sewed with silver threads and her hair in her back had the color of a dark blue sky. The Countess Minerva of Montgalleon’s robes were entirely made of dark green boiled leathers, she was also wearing a black pointy hat and black gloves. The only thing they had in common was their unhidden wands, playing between deft fingers. Those were probably the most peculiar choices of gathering’s clothes but their were others striking in beauty and gracefulness, the Gryffindors in all gold and red were justifiably the most noticeable in the room.

 

The Throne Room was spacious enough to have numerous alcoves and balconies with people coming from all around the Empire. There was large banners hanging on the walls, showing the Fiery Phoenix and the Golden Lion of the Imperial Family, a velvet red carpet was tracing an empty path towards the elevated thrones, covering the high marble steps and the ground underneath them. The first throne was much larger than the second, covered in gold with straight lines and colorful jewels and red corduroy fabrics when the other, much shorter with softer edges, was all white with golden touches and diamonds as ornaments. The Empress was sitting there, on the smallest seat and her children all of them standing proud and chatting beside her but when the Emperor finally showed himself, the room fell abruptly silent. It was like a charm falling on the noisy Court, their demeanor became reverent and solemn as they all turned towards the Golden Throne respectfully when the herald announced his arrival, heads bowing down. He entered from the hidden doors behind the thrones and sat mightily in the deathly silence as everyone seemed hold back his breath in trepidation. He waved at the closed doors facing them with his left hand, the golden rings shining on his fingers and Dumbledore, standing down the steps, took one step forward at the silent order.

 

“The hearing can take place,” he declared before moving apart and the herald at the top of the doors straightened himself from his stand, gesturing to the guards behind the closed doors through a small opened window.

 

Waiting behind the high doors, the King Draconis II took a deep breath and prepared himself for his entrance. The guards opened the doors, revealing the Emperor’s Throne Room to the eyes of his advisors and himself. The High Maester Severus and his ambassadors, the Carrows, were just a small step behind him, flanking his sides.

 

“His Majesty the King Draconis II from Evensoles,” the herald bellowed with a powerful voice that resonated loudly in the silence.

 

When he stepped forward, only Alecto and Amycus followed after him as they slowly crossed the large room. Faces that he never saw before stared at him unashamedly. Draconis was aware of how he looked, everything had been taught to him since an early age. His posture, his gestures, his gaze, everything in him had to be flawless in the other’s eyes, thosewere the rules, he had to be both alluring and unreachable as every second of his life was constantly judged and evaluated by others. He walked gracefully, his back straight, with his head held high without looking a bit arrogant, just fully aware of his value and saw everything he had been taught reflecting in people’s eyes. Some were openly mesmerized, others grudgingly enraptured by his poise, others again seemed both annoyed or bored and a large part of them, mostly young and petty lads and women, showed an interesting amount of envy or blatant jealousy.

 

But Draconis only cared for the elevated thrones on other side of the room, every single member of the Imperial Family was present on the platform. The three sons of the Emperor were standing on the right side of the Golden Throne and his two daughters were on the left side, standing beside the Empress’s Throne, from the oldest to the youngest. When they finally reached the front of the steps, the Carrows quickly bowed very low behind him to the royals and swiftly merged in the crowd when the King finally met the gaze of the Emperor. In his head, Draco had imagined a handsome man with golden locks to match the Great Lion of his emblem but was unmistakably misconceived in his expectations.

 

The Dreadful Conqueror was an impressive man for sure but in very fierce way, Draco knew that he was more than fifty but he looked like he was in his thirties only. Tall and dark-haired, his hair were shorter than the norm among the rich nobles, he was also quite burly, impressively wide, with a gold tanned complexion but that was expected after passing decades running bloody battles all around the world, his features were sharp but still handsome and finally meeting his piercing eyes, the young King thought that must be how death would have looked if it had eyes. The Emperor’s eyes were made of a vivid and captivating emerald green that he definitely did not deserve, they hid nothing of his ruthlessness at all. He was a warrior above all as attested the great sword of his ancestors standing against the arm of his seat. The Empress, sitting beside him, was probably the more beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on before, she was of an angelic beauty that must gather longing in the whole Continent and she had something otherworldly in her that he couldn’t quite define with pale celestial blue eyes, flawless and light complexion and bright golden hair with loose curls. Their children looked like both of their parents, effortlessly mighty and beautiful.

 

“It came to my ears that the Eastern King has a present for me,” the Emperor said, breaking the deafening silence with an unsettling casualness as he acknowledged their new guest.

 

Draconis knelt respectfully in front of the Golden Throne, barely noticing the guards standing on each side of the room just before the steps, and thought after seeing the meek nobles gathered in the room that his natural boldness would be perfectly fitted to make an impression.

 

“You may rise, young Draconis,” the Conqueror commanded in a deep baritone.“We will all listen to your words today, King of Evensoles.”

 

Draconis didn’t rose then but waved behind him at the doors and all eyes turned towards the doors as the High Maester of the Opal Order followed by Ser Blaithin and two of his best knights entered the room with a chained man. From then, shouts suddenly erupted in the otherwise calm room, raging people started to screams and litterally spat at the prisoner, they called to his death, demanded whipping, hanging, torture altogether, unashamedly showing how deep their hatred for Voldemort was, all prestances forgotten. They _demanded_ reparation. Tommen Riddle stood tall, with a hard face and his unnerving were blood red eyes cast away. The shackles around were loud on the marble ground and thick with obvious binding runes engraved on it.

 

“QUIET!” The booming voice of the Emperor hushed everyone into stillness and Draconis, unmoving on his spot, had a hard time not enjoying the show as he could feel only the eyes of Albus Dumbledore tracking his slightest gesture. Despite his words, the Conqueror’s eyes were promising hundreds of torments to the Betrayer and they only returned to the Eastern King reluctantly.

 

Draconis raised his hand and took the bigger hold of the chains from the High Maester.

 

“I came to His Majesty the Emperor of Saurænia with a long lost traitor as a pledge of peace,” he declared, extending his open hand to the Emperor.

 

And the Great Lion, while locking his eyes into the mercury droplets of the young Dragon’s eyes, carefully retrieved the hold in the pale hand. Draconis rose then and looked as the monarch gave a sharp tug to the chains, making the Betrayer stumble onward to the delight of all.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The Feast was an… interesting sight. The gifts of his kingdom had been widely appreciated as the wizards were drinking themselves out with eastern red wine and southern white wine. When the Feasts were usually held in the Great Hall at Ev’Dracaenas, at Godric’s Hills celebrations were held in a courtyard, it was a large place surrounded with the walls of the Palace but opening on the clear western sky. There was heavy and long wooden feast tables all around the courtyard with one large main table on the other side, the Imperial Family’s table where were aligned in the center the Emperor and the Empress’s seats. The colors flowing the place were as always warm but there was not only red and gold on the walls, the banners hanging there were the Gryffindors ones but also the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs banners. The Ravenclaws banner was of a royal blue color, a dark raven and a bronze eagle were perched side by side on a tree branch, their colors were blue and bronze. The Hufflepuffs banner was quite a sight as their kingdom had known years of fights between different branches of the same family claiming the throne themselves and three centuries prior, the actually dynasty managed to win the throne and never let it go. Their banner was a of sunny yellow representing the ever warm weather of the southern islands with a massive elephant standing proudly in the middle with dark skin and ivory tusks, their colors were yellow and black.

 

The Slytherins banner wasn’t there as they were no part of the Empire yet, an official ceremony was to insert them in Saurænia but this will happen after long weeks or even months of negotiations and discussions between the Emperor and his small council. As major parts of Saurænia, Edarion and Ilvenia will have a say in the terms and conditions. The Evensoles will be an integral of the Empire only after fulfilling very parts of the terms and conditions, and that could take months as it could take years but Draconis was not the least worried about it. The Emperor had gathered all the royals guests at his tables facing the free area in the middle of the courtyard surrounded by the tables of the Lords, Court’s members, prominent people of foreign royal convoys, awards winning knights and former knights, close and distant cousins of the Gryffindors with golden hair, and others rich and influential families living around the Crownlands. The courtyard was buzzing with all these people and the Eastern King had found himself satisfyingly close to the Imperial Family which was a way to show willingness towards the Evensoles insertion.

 

Actually, as the first guest, his seat was the very one after the two daughters of the Emperor who were as always placed near their mother. After him was seated the Crown Prince Terence, then the Crown Princess Suzanna and her aunt, the Duchess of Blackbones. At the Emperor’s other side were his three sons, and then, the parents of the Empress who had left their lands for this important gathering with their second child, young Lady Gabrielle. They were important as the last living grandparents of the Emperor’s children. Draco had known since the beginning the Empress Fleur Gryffindor nee Couronne held such title only in name as she has very little power other than having the Emperor’s first ear and being greatly valued. But he was no fooled because more than having a mesmerizing beauty that she seemed to have transmitted to her daughters and get from her mother, the Empress was obviously smart - even if soft spoken - for having won the Emperor’s hand over the hundreds of pretenders. House Couronne had not been one of the most influential Houses before her wedding and its lands were very close of the Evensoles borders thus quite insecure. They were neighboring the besieged Eastern Provinces and were probably the reason of the zone attacked over the others lands closing his kingdom’s territory. Draconis could only be relieved to not be seated near Lord Augustin Couronne and his wife, Lady Apolline, but he had to bear instead the very young Princess Astoria Liliana Gryffindor and the very quiet but observant Prince Terence Ravenclaw.

 

From the two daughters, she seemed to be the sweetest and obviously the more curious at seven years-old. The elder daughter, Princess Daphne Euphemia Gryffindor was her mother’s child, having inherited the same otherworldly beauty seemingly catching all the sunlight but was much more scornful and she got a paler and softer shade of her father’s green eyes. At only sixteen, she was an incredible beauty and was obviously well aware of it, just like her mother, all the men were constantly attracted by her sight and could barely stop themselves to look too much and risk provoking the Emperor’s wrath but Daphne seemed justifiably wary of the attention. The young King wasn’t that much affected, he always had a strong mind but also that sort of ethereal beauty, if impressive, was not enticing to his eyes, something he had no wishes to dwell too much on.

 

The Princess hadn’t acknowledged Prince Terence at all when they gathered in the courtyard and Draconis could see that the Edari Prince was dying for her attention. It was an excellent political match for her to wed the future King of Edarion which was currently eighteen, not too old for the most desired maiden of the Old Continent, but no one could tell what was the Emperor’s plans for her hand and also Prince Terence was a muggle, maybe the imperial family had some qualms related to the purity of their lineage. Astoria was only nine with light blue eyes and deep dark waterfalls for hair and she was obviously a flower waiting to bloom as the loveliest child of the country, even if she had her dark hair and slight warm tan on her skin from her father’s family, he could guess the great beauty she was going to be in her teenage days just like her sister. Daphne was the midday sky and Astoria the midnight sky, both sumptuous in their own way. As the servants served the food before them, he could feel her big eyes turned towards him when they finally settled.

 

“You’re really beautiful,” she said to him with a high-pitched voice and the young King turned towards her surprised that the child would actually speak with the other adults. “I had never seen a muggle as much beautiful as my mother or my sister before.”

 

He instantly recognized the odd term, muggles were people magically ungifted to wizards, some of them even dared to think that muggles were beneath them and use the word as an insult in the northern half of Old Saurænia where purists and extremists were very popular, not so much around the Palace’s big city or it was vey well hidden by the people since Edari and Ilvenian travelers were commonly allowed in the West. Though, Astoria didn’t sound at all contemptuous, her compliment albeit very strange was genuine. The girl was sweet with her round cheeks and big blue eyes and she looked up at him with an unexpected serious face, Draconis flashed her his most charming smile and took his golden cup of wine, she did the same with her pumpkin juice.

 

“Oh, I am not nearly as pretty as your mother or your sister, Princess. But I appreciate the compliment,” he told her, trying to be kind by not totally ignoring her, before raising his cup of wine to his lips, the golden cup was carved with a lion’s head like the rest of the cutlery. Again, she tried to copy the gesture, placing her tiny hand carefully on the golden cup but ended up using the other hand, she was left-handed. When he straightened himself, she mimicked him with a smile. The sight seemed to be amusing for Prince Terence as he snorted indiscreetly beside them and forgot his prior exercise which consisted in keeping his eyes away from Daphne. When Draconis rested his hands on his lap, she did exactly the same and looked at him to gauge his reaction.

 

Inside, the Eastern King was both irritated and amused by the childish behavior but he kept a neutral expression as if everything was perfect in the best world. Looking down at his plate, he saw a little blue flower on the edge, seemingly inconspicuous but the message she carried left him pleased. Draconis wasn’t destitute, when his father died, the prominent members of his Court had tried to gain more power, thinking him gullible because of his young age. The first thing he did after his coronation was to send half of them on a forced temporary retirement which gave him the time necessary to reassert his hold on the power and reorganize his Court. To maintain his power he had to be aware of every plot against him or his family, every single prominent people of his Court was spied. He possessed his own body of experimented spies, the name of their secret guild was _Ipomoea_ , after the blue flower. One of his spies managed to enter the Palace or at least gained an informant inside the walls of the Palace. It was well enough to keep him aware of the games played inside the Emperor’s Palace with a minimum risk to be caught.

 

The Eastern King wasn’t stupid, he had know since his arrival that he was spied. Olympia had behaved angelically, maybe a little too much, but he did not forget that his loyalty was integrally to the Emperor of Saurænia. It was not surprising to have servants spy on guests - even if slightly frowned upon - and to refuse their help would have been down right suspicious. For other men, whores would have been sent to spy as tongues were universally known to untie in company of bedmatesbut since the Eastern King had never shown any interest in that sort of carnal pastime, they had to found an another way. Too bad that the King had the habit to send way his servants. When the Emperor raised to make his celebratory speech, all sounds hushed in a way Draco was starting to get used to. His words were harsh as he promised Tommen Riddle’s death to all and had nice word for the wise gesture of the Evensoles in rendering the escapee and ended his fierce speech by wishing them a glorious feast. When they finally started to eat, the Princess impatiently recopied his movements.

 

“Princess Astoria seems to well like you, Sire.” Daphne suddenly broke their little play with a practiced melodious voice, with a tone saying that Princess Astoria was a bit stupid to deem him worthy of her time. He identified Daphne without difficulties as the sort of young and immature witch who would think less of ‘muggles.’

 

Draconis swallowed his bite and put down his fork. “Curiosity seems to be one of her qualities,” he said to her, using a voice naturally steady and soothing as he met the jade beads of her eyes. He could see from the corner of his eyes, Prince Terence straightening himself for an opportunity to join the conversation.

 

“Quality I can’t tell but it’s true that Astoria had the bad habit to be very nosy,” replied the elder daughter, purposefully glancing at Astoria. “She didn’t bother you, I hope?” she asked in false concern.

 

“Hey!” Astoria squeaked, sounding remotely outraged. “I wasn’t pushy, I behaved with extreme politeness!”

 

“Princess Astoria has been, as always, adorable.” Prince Terence interceded in favor of the youngest and Daphne did not even look at him when he spoke up.

 

Draco used the distraction to crush the blue flower and toss it to drown and dissolve in his cup of wine. “The little princess is no bother for me,” he said conveniently. “In fact, I was going to ask her if she did enjoyed the eastern treats I offered to your family.”

 

“Oh,” Daphne huffed scornfully. “She adored the sweets and would have probably gorged herself to sickness if Mother hadn’t be there to stop her.”

 

Probably hearing his daughter speaking about her, the Empress reluctantly teared her eyes off her husband to look at them.

 

“The treats were truly delicious, Sire.”

 

The Consort’s saccharin sweet voice immediately raised the hair on the nape of his neck as he recognized carefully concealed animosity. “Eastern sweets that we never had the occasion to taste before. It was gracious gift and the people seems to enjoy dessert as well as the wine.”

 

“Especially the strawberry candies,” Astoria deeply sighed to make very clear that she longed for more of them.

 

“She ate all of them in a row,” scoffed Daphne behind her before turning around to listen the conversations of her others siblings sitting beside her father.

 

“I have more of them with my personal belongings,” he whispered conspiratoriallyto the youngest Gryffindor and the child positively beamed at him.

 

The Empress faintly shook her head with barely concealed fondness and Draconis concluded that the beauty queen certainly didn’t appreciate him for some unknown reason - something, he was going to search on later as he couldn’t allow himself to alienate the one who had the Emperor’s right ear for now - but she seemed to appreciate seeing her children well-cared for and not carelessly dismissed. He could play with this.

 

The celebration processed until late evening and Draconis get the occasion to exchange few words with a rigid and stilted Duchess of Blackbones and a sweet Princess Suzanna — much too soft for a future queen but not so shy. The courtyard quieted when music rose in the air and dancers appeared from nowhere in the free area, the music was energetic but very traditional for a welcome feast.

 

The tones were warm and cheerful filling ears and vibrating in chests, the dancers seemed to fly in rhythm, captivating the crowd with their colorful and sparkling gears. Most of them were very lightly covered, showing more skin that decency would allow in the East with long colorful clothes and ribbons crossing on their bodies. The ribbons tied at their wrists and ankles were flowing widely around them as they gracefully moved like waters and waves with calculated spins and stunts.

 

The Eastern King found himself greatly enjoying the show and if a bit of dread filled his stomach, the feeling was thoroughly ignored. Dancing had been his mother greatest asset, she had been dancing with a troop at the capital grand place when his father saw her for the first time and she had him literally entranced him with her moves. An unique talent that had been only hers, King Lux’Cian’s concubines were all beautiful and had their own qualities but none of them could dance like Narcissa. She had been something akin to a goddess of dance and had passed countless afternoons dancing with him in his childhood.

 

Like all siblings, Draco had mostly be raised by his mother, a King was rarely accessible even for his own children but he had never felt annoyed by this fact because he had his mother all for himself and she had always treated him as if he was some sort of miracle - a precious gift the gods had granted her - and Draconis had suspected that he might have been one of the reasons of Narcissa’s unexpected crowning as the only one of Dragon’s blood among the King’s eight children. Draco had loved dancing because his mother’s favorite pastime was to teach him her natural talent. The young Dragon had stopped dancing altogether when his mother died, he had lost any interest in it but tonight he couldn’t - even if he had wanted it - avert his eyes from the show. He could almost see Narcissa at Ev’Dracaenas among such talented people, stealing hearts of the youth, gathering love, jealously, admiration from all. The perfect match for the King.

 

The music and the dancers moves followed him until late this night and he even dreamed too these old days when he was a carefree prized child, enjoying walks with his mother in the capital, seeing the crowd of the main square with merchants booming voices resonating around him, colorful silk fabrics blowing with winds, the smells of fried foods, flowers, fresh fruits and vegetables. His dreams were peaceful and joyful, when he woke up, his heart seemed to be lighter and his mind less preoccupied but he was filled with a fierce desire to see the crowded places of the city below the Palace, Gold Lily, the heart of Saurænia.

 

But he didn’t have the occasion to visit, four days passed without seeing him taking one step outside of the castle. Olympia appeared early in the morning and left late in the evening, always obliging, working with cheerfulness and soft smiles that weren’t fooling Draco a little bit. The servant was adorable but definitely untrustworthy. His days were filled with scheduled meeting and discussions between the royals, emissaries and other prominent members of the Emperor’s Court concerning the terms and conditions of his Kingdom’s insertion into the Great Empire of Saurænia. The returning of the besieged provinces was a very sensible subject, it could be ill-interpreted to go straight for it but the Eastern King would settle for no less than the returning of their rightful lands.

 

In the mean time, the young King had met the Changs in the meantime, Hui Wei was a very cold man with an intuitive spirit and very serious demeanor, his wife Lady Zhen Zhu was very observant, seemingly idle to al but her sharp obsidian orbs were rarely unfocused on her surroundings and their daughter, Cho, was really talkative showing sharp wits in debates when she was authorized to share her mind.

 

From Hufflepuff’s Kingdom, Draconis was very wary of the Duchess of Blackbones, she was an ambitious and dangerous woman, he could tell that. Her Kingdom was attempting to win more power and were against the East’s direct insertion as a vassal and not by complete annihilation of their royalty like other unfortunate small kingdoms fallen under Godric Gryffindor’s Sword and the Emperor’s wrath. It was discreet and very subtle of course but nonetheless clear. Ilvenia’s royaltywas very wary and had other objectives but Edarion’s was neutral having well enough things to occupy themselves in the North with their eternal struggle in resources.

 

The Young King also had met the Scamanders, the elder of their family was a very odd man called Newton Scamander, his children and grandchildren all lived in Gold Lily and Draconis had been surprised to see the man to such meetings due to his advanced age but then, Albus Dumbledore was impossibly old and still very active. His grand son, Rolf Scamander was the one doing most of the speaking and he had struck as odd as his ancestor to Draco. He had just exchanged few words with the old man in the gardens when he crossed the path of a Thunderbird living in the Emperor’s household, wondering why his Majesty would keep such terrific beasts around his family and discovered that the elder Scamander and his family had made a profession in the care of that sort of fantastic beasts and that’s how the elder had won the Emperor’s friendship three decades before, Draconis himself wasn’t born when the Great Lion had conquered Ilvenia. He had spoke and met a lot of people but didn’t see the Emperor once again after the feast in Voldemort’s death honor lest spoke to him, it was something Draco was grateful for, he had no intention to speak to that man if he can avoid it.

 

But after his relatively peaceful and slow settling in the Emperor’s Court, it was the night between the fourth and fifth day in the Palace that he had been unable to have a restful night, his mind overflowing with hundreds of different thoughts.

 

Then they started…

 

 _Migraines —_ splitting headaches that pierced though his brain with tremors that left him dizzy and queazy as the culminant point of his schemes was nearing with a lightning speed and he couldn’t allow himself to think about it lest to let slip some precious informations. Because honest to the Moon, what did he know about Witchcraft? For everything, their unholy magic may be able to read though other people's minds.

 

Groggily, Draconis forced himself out of his bed, sighing when he caught the noise of the servants fussing outside of his bedroom. Yes, he had met the famous houses elves and almost had a heart attack the first day but now the puny little things had learned to stay away from him lest to offend the young King’s eyes. The Palace’s people thoughtfulness to have him exchanging with exclusively human servants was the smartest thing they could have done for him. He walked through the large room, stopping near the windows to let in the owls waiting outside with his correspondence. He might have admitted himself that the birds were truly revolutionary and so much faster than every others birds or men used to send messages.

 

Without even looking at the letters left on the desk, he gathered what he needed to clean himself and passed through the water room’s door, his mind thinking of a way to approach the Empress. And by the dark look on her face when they were in the same room, it was going to be hard. While washing himself in the already warm bath, Princess Astoria’s names crossed his mind and he smiled.

 

Of course, _candies_.

 

Draconis was finishing his in the Hall in company of the Carrows, the High Maester and Ser Blaithin not far from them with the other knights and his servants fussing around the room when he saw her. Astoria, with the other maiden and young ladies was crossing the hallway to join the Palace’s gardens. The King sent her a look and raised a pink metal box towards her when she looked his way, she immediately beamed and went to him. The Eastern King stood to meet her with a curt bow.

 

“Princess Astoria,” he saluted, giving her a knowing smile when she eyed the pink box in his hand.

 

“King Draconis,” she equally saluted, her long dark hair falling in loose curls around her round face and her pretty blue dress. She sent a look back to her swarm of young ladies and looked up at him with a sparkle in her blue eyes. “My mother is having a tea later in the private gardens, Sire. Will you join us? I think that grandmother might have something to say on eastern fashion trends and your pretty attire.”

 

Draconis had an unwilling tic when his mind translated grandmother as Lady Couronne but he smiled at the little girl facing him with absolute politeness, he was wearing an intricate royal dress made of white of vapory silk embedded with small diamonds in the chest to match his father crown that he was actually wearing. His hair were mostly plain with very little work since his headaches had reduced his patience to none and the crown — matching Lux’Cian’s taste for delicate and elegant women the crown was a fine thing made of white gold an diamonds. Draconis didn’t took his right to make a new crown when he started his reign because he didn’t have the time and had not wanted to waste his royal funds already spent enough by his father. Instead he took the ancestral crown of Salazar Slytherin and had it adjusted to fit him like all his ancestors for his coronation but had also adjusted his father’s own crown because Lux’Cian — for the rare moments they passed in private together — had never refused him to let him try his crown when he was a child. A beautiful crown, worthy of a Dragon King, had he always said.

 

“I will be honored to join you for tea if that what you want,” he told her, she nodded eagerly in response and the young King barely repressed his amusement. “And I will even take bring those strawberries candies that I promised you.”

 

Pink tinged her cheeks in both embarrassment and delight to the idea. “For now, I have some blue berries candies that you might like to taste,” he added extending his arm with the pink box for her to take.

 

“It mean that… I’ll have two boxes?” She asked sounding almost astonished and Draco merely nodded, smiling kindly when she took the candies. “Thank you, Sire”

 

He winked at her. “I trust you to hide it from you sister.”

 

“Sure!” Astoria giggled like a little mouse before she departed with a curt bow.

 

Later when Princess Astoria’s valet came summoning him for tea, Draconis barely acknowledged the stiff old man in dark outfit. Letting go of his sister’s letters, he left, swiftly followed by the two knights guarding his quarters doors. Ser Vincent and Ser Gregory followed silently, their imposing figures cutting in the beauty of the place as they rigidly followed their King everywhere he went with the absolute and blind loyalty of dogs to their master. When he was younger, Draconis used to make fun of them with Pansilira, saying that if it wasn’t for muscles and fighting, their great stupidity wouldn’t have gotten them this far in life. They were mostly there when Ser Blaithin was busy somewhere else as the prodigious commander was two times more skilled than the both of them.

 

They were lead not to the main gardens but to the private ones, reserved to the Imperial Family. Just by knowing this fact, Draconis could tell that Astoria’s invitation was bold.

 

 _But what else was expected from a young Gryffindor?_ He thought with satisfaction but that feeling was quickly drowned when he was greeted not only by the Empress, her mother and her daughters but also by her husband and their sons sitting around a high marble table just near beds of begonias and lilies with a white fountain not far springing water to perfect thepicture. He almost froze then, startled by the unexpected sight but was carefully to keep a proper demeanor.

 

He bowed down to greet the Emperor and then the rest of his family together. James Celemrald Gryffindor, the elder child — who was his father’s perfect copy — was twenty-two and looked absolutely bored, probably wishing to be anything that hearing Ladies speaking fashion. Caldor Hardwin Gryffindor, the second child was seventeen and could have been Daphne’s twin as he took everything from his mother and grandfather, golden locks, light skin but hazel eyes instead of green, he was almost too handsome to be real. And Edric, the youngest took after his deceased grandparents, at fifteen, his eyes as green as his father’s but he had a very dark shade of redhead, and his auburn curls looked mostly brown inside but shined with red highlights under the sun of mid-afternoon. By seeing their deeply bored or annoyed expressions, Draco could tell that Sunday’s tea was a family ritual they couldn’t have avoided even if they had tried to.

 

“King Draconis,” greeted warmly Apolline Couronne. “Our granddaughter had only good to say about you. Let just start about who made you that fine outfit, can’t we?” She waved grandly at the empty seat beside Astoria and Draconis seated, smiling politely at the old lady whose husband’s family caused his mother’s death. He slowly rested the red metal box in front of Astoria who beamed before answering to her grandmother.

 

“Surely, you must have heard of Madam Malkin?”

 

“Of course! Who did not?” She scoffed almost haughtily while waving at a servant for him to come serve the tea. “This good lady made quite a name of herself in all the Continent but she’s still living there in Diagon Alley.”

 

“Well, her grandson Albert Malkin has made quite a name for himself in the East. He’s been working for the Crown for more than a decade by now. But I can’t say, I am not curious to see Madam Malkin’s work with my own eyes,” Draco said when his tea cup was filled with a fuming liquid, he glanced at the Empress. “After all, if Madam Malkin has been the one making the Empress’s dresses, she must be exceptionally talented.”

 

Fleur blowed over her tea, smiling slightly at his words. “We’re going to visit Diagon Alley next week in prevision of Imbolc. Maybe we’ll see each other then, King Draconis.”

 

“Draco,” he quickly said, surprised by the unexpected and subtle invitation. “You can call me Draco.”

 

“Oh,” The Empress seemed genuinely surprised as she put down her tea. “Call me Fleur, then. It’s only fair.”

 

“I’d be honored, Fleur.” Draco shot her a dimpled smile, still trying to kill everything whatever might have set her off about himself before but he knew they wasn’t there yet. He had an idea of the cause of her wariness of course, but found himself greatly insulted by the prospect of him being a sort of menace to her perfect couple’s life. Especially when her husband hadn’t shown any interest whatsoever in the young King.

 

“So, Draconis,” The Emperor suddenly intervened, and the Dragon straightened his back imperceptibly when he turned around to meet the Great Lion’s sharp emerald eyes and every single cell of his body sent an alarm that he concealed efficiently. “How have you been adjusting to the Palace’s living?”

 

“Quite well, I guess. But between us,” he said turning to sip a bit of his warm tea. “I will never be able to find my way alone in the Palace if I was to found myself in such predicament. I would lost my way at least ten times before crossing someone else.”

 

Gabrielle near her father giggled at that, quickly followed by Astoria. “It’s a hopeless cause, Sire. I’m born there and I still manage to lost my way sometimes,” the little princess said with self derision.

 

“This Palace is a sort of labyrinth, young man,” said Lord Couronne, catching the Dragon blood’s attention. “My rule is too always have someone of the Palace with me. James and Edric know the Palace like the back of their hands, they have always loved exploring, and we have been used to see them sneaking out of the Palace when they weren’t on the yard with Caldor and Ser Kingsley.”

 

“Oh,” Astoria perked up. “James is very skilled with a sword, people say that he will follow my father’s steps and become one of the greatest fighters in the Old Continent.”

 

“Hey,” Caldor dropped his bored expression, his short golden locks were a bit ruffled by the wind. “I’m twice as good as him.”

 

Edric snorted loudly at that, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. “This is what you like to think, but everyone know that I’m the talented one in the family!” The boy declared grandly, provoking laughters around the table.

 

“Nonsense!” scoffed Daphne, even if her tone was slightly disdainful you could see her amusement by the way her lips lifted up against her will. “Everyone know that James is the best. Caldor is only faster, like some hectic bird and you Edric, it will be hard to compare since you haven’t even been given a real sword for training.”

 

“Daphne,” Fleur scolded her softly for her rudeness. “You know that Edric’s going to switch his wooden sword soon enough and have his first sword carved at his next name day. And each of you are skilled in your own way.”

 

Draconis managed to restrain his urge to roll his eyes at this as Edric started to defend his point, James didn’t looked even remotely interested by the conversation.

 

“What about you, Draconis?” The Emperor’s deep voice interrupted his children banter, when Draco looked up at him he had the feeling that the man hadn’t took eyes off him of the whole ordeal. “Any interest in fighting?”

 

Draco looked down at his hands as he rested his cup on the tablecloth, they hardly showed any callouses. It would have been stupid to lie and completely unnecessary, he shook his head. “Not really, I never had been quite skilled with a sword. It kept slipping out of hands but I’m a skilled hunter.”

 

“Interesting,” the man commented, brushing his bearded jaw with a huge hand. “And you can hunt in Ev’Dracaenas?”

 

“Yes, I used to go to the Kingswood with my father and my other siblings as a child.”

 

“What’s your biggest prey?” Astoria asked him curiously after stuffing a red candy in her mouth thoroughly ignoring Daphne’s disapproving look.

 

“Well, I’ve never liked venison that much but everyone was astonished the first time I managed to put down a deer. And one time with my sister - who’s very skilled with a bow - we crossed a grizzly bear.” Astoria gasped at that. “And she managed to blind him with two arrows so we could flee, if it wasn’t for her, I’m not sure how we could have managed to come back home.”

 

“Wait,” James perked up, his voice not unlike his father was strong and deep but lacking of that natural authority he would need in time when he would become King at his turn, Draco had a hard time acknowledging the fact that the man was actually older than him by two years when he had met him during the first political gathering at his father’s side. “How old were you?”

 

“Mmm… I was eight and my sister was twelve.” Beside him, Daphne’s jaw goes slack as she looked as baffled as her younger siblings.

 

“It was very dangerous at such young age, your father had let you two go alone in the woods?” Her father asked translating their obvious shock.

 

“Absolutely not,” Draco denied sounding amused by the accusation. “My sister and I had foolishly snuck out that day. Actually, we have been grounded after that and denied any rights to go by ourselves near the woods once again.”

 

During the rest of the tea, Draconis continued to relate some facts about the Eastern poeple and their ways to entertain the family. He learnt that Daphne and Astoria were going to Rosemont with their grandparents and their little aunt Gabrielle tomorrow, giving him the explanation for this little familial gathering, their were saying goodbye to each other as none doubted that they might have no other opportunity. Everything goes smoothly and the Eastern King was almost certain to have made a good impression on them, even if, he could hardly tell for the Emperor, the man had stayed mostly silent as his children grew steadily louder. Draco was afraid that he suspected something but couldn’t allow himself to think too much about since he couldn’t change anything about it.

 

 _Imbolc was on her way,_ he told himself that night after getting ready to sleep.

 

Another week passed in a blink of eye and the young Dragon awoke with the muffled sound of snow falling from the sky announcing Imbolc for the next days. The debates were ending and the proposition of Newton Scamander to seal the alliance was the front-page topic of every single life in the Crownlands. He proposed to build the greatest school of the Old Continent in honor of the Four Great Rulers: Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff.

 

The Countess of Montgalleon - Minerva - and Lord Xenophilius fought over the name almost immediately after the elder Scamander’s presentation which gathered an unexpected enthusiasm and Rolf Scamander proposed the most absurd choice of name possible to the young Dragon’s taste. They wanted to call the school ‘ _Hogwarts_ ’ for wizarding customs with four houses to separate the student body. The House of Snakes for Slytherin, the House of Lions for Gryffindor, the House of Eagles for Ravenclaw and surprisingly enough, the House of Badgers for Hufflepuff after Princess Suzanna express demand, informing them of the fact that Helga’s first pet was a badger according to their historical records, also elephants weren’t used yet at this time by the royal family nor by southern merchants. She ended her speech describing the characters of each of the chosen animals.

 

Draconis wasn’t surprised as she explained the Emperor’s small council and his royal guests the snake’s cunning and resourcefulness, the lion’s daring and fierceness, the eagle’s wisdom and perceptiveness and the badger’s caring and dedication. The Eastern would have thought of giving wisdom to the Hufflepuffs but obviously, Princess Suzanna thought otherwise and the Duchess Amelia was just too happy to see her niece hushing the room into a stunned silence to go against her choice.

 

Draco rolled out of bed and drug himself to the windows and his breath suddenly left him at the beautiful sight. The snow wasn’t falling, it was drumming in big snowflakes and coating absolutely everything over the hills in absolute purity. When he rested his hand against the glass, the cold trying to seep in sent a shiver down his spine and he tore his eyes off it when someone knocked at his doors.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can I come in, my King?” Loreta asked from behind the doors and as he had expected Olympia to show up early, he was pleased to be wrong.

 

“Come in, I was going to take my bath.” He told her and she didn’t wait to open the door, following him in the water room with a bucket of hot water. “Octavius is at the stable?”

 

“Yes, Sire,” the blonde answered while carefully filling the mosaic basin. “Are you still going to visit Diagon Alley today?”

 

“Yes,” he told her, slowly sliding in the hot water. “I am going to take you and Olympia with me.”

 

Loreta let out an excited sound and lashed out. “Oh, I wanted to see it so much! The Palace’s people are always speaking about it. They say everything is magical in Diagon Alley, everything sold in the shops, the shows, the places, my King. _Everything!_ ”

 

Draco listened as she babbled about everything the wizards told her, she didn’t spoke about the magic she saw them do because she knew it will annoy him but she described with passions about the food, the clothes and the entertainment. She told him that she heard from Tania who heard from Albin that the dancers who came at the Feast where still at Diagon Alley and will come again for Imbolc. She spoke about the preparations going on for the festival and how everyone is buzzing with excitement.

 

He was waiting in the Entrance Hall later between the marbles pillars, his back to fire bird mosaic, with the Duchess of Blackbones and her niece for the Empress Carriage to be a ready with his guards not too far when he heard it. He was thinking about his sister last letter, fondling unawarely the golden chain of his locket, the sudden noise broke his bubble.

 

_A roar._

 

He wasn’t certain of what was the most astonishing, the fact that he caught an enormous, _real,_ lion walking in the Hall or the fact that no one among the Palace’s people seemed to be shockedor surprised by this fact. Most of them moved fast to not be in the way with fearful looks but they didn’t look surprised at all. The Lion was followed by his master, the Emperor Heramald was escorting his wife towards them. The couple was cutting a picture almost too perfect to be real, and the Lion was the Emperor’s side, following obediently, his fierce growling hushing when his master rested a hand on his huge head. Draco had only seen picture of lions but he was certain that this one was largely above average, tall, massive and absolutely frightening. The young King remembered other rumors about the Emperor. This was the Conqueror’s companion in war, the Great Lion wasn’t just a surname given to the sovereign but it was also referencing to this viciousand frightening beast. Rumors as always went a bit crazy about the massive lion, speaking about a creature made of fire only attacking enemies of the Gryffindors, reducing them to ashes, burning their bodies to nothing with fangs and claws like daggers.

 

Draco was starting to think after seeing the beast that rumors weren’t all to be thrown away. He wasn’t particularly fond of pets, never mind the kind who can eat you alive in your sleep but if someone was putting him in front of a massive fiery lion, he will run for his life’s sake. It was a thought to be considered.

 

The Empress Carriage was little and very delicate from the outside with white painted iron and golden ornaments when they finally get in but the inside was impossibly larger and he had no doubt that magic has something to do with this. The horses towing her carriage were white and winged, _Abraxans_ , they called it. Draco had seen some of them flying before around the Palace’s hills, they were Fleur’s favorite magical beasts but they didn’t leave the earth once this time as they carried them into Gold Lily’s heart, Diagon Alley. And the young King had found the fact that his grandfather’s name sounded just like the white winged horses entertaining, wondering if King Abraxas would have appreciated the beautiful beasts.

 

Diagon Alley was exactly what Loreta had told him before. Everything, absolutely _everything_ was made of magic. From the ice-cream seller, Florean Fortescue, with is moving Ice Cream Parlor filled with hundreds of perfumes — with basics and very _very_ odds tastes — to the shop selling flying brooms and quidditch supplies, Eeylops Owl Emporium to the wand-seller shop, Ollivanders.

 

Draco didn’t go everywhere, he visited Madam Malkin’s shop with the Empress, her handmaidens, the Duchess of Blackbones and Princess Suzanna, sending Olympia and Loreta to buy best quality weapons and jewelry — Loreta would know what to choose, she was used to buy his things — for his siblings. During the exchanges with Madam Malkin, the choices of fabric among linen, silk, velvet, leathers and even steel for some makeshift armor with the blacksmith, Hadrian Hill. After having ordered outfits to the old lady, he stopped by Flourish and Blotts, buying books with Luna and Padmary’s tastes in mind, and old grimoires for Theoden ad Hermione’s endless studies. He hesitated before a store called Quality Quidditch Supplies filled with young children and teenagers even with the snow, but when Scorpius crossed his mind, he asked to the seller if the ungifted can use some of those things.

 

His response wasn’t unexpected. “Only wizards can make good use of them, Sire.”

 

But he did buy two of them though, one called Firebolt and the other Nimbus as the seller and Olympia claimed that they were the best, both very expensive. The kids around looked at the brooms with envy when the sellers quickly packaged them, the man was probably thinking that they were bought as souvenirs from the travel. Only, it wasn’t what Draco had in mind when he bought them, the Slytherins weren’t mages, they were dragons and if they were unable to wield barbarian magic like wizards. His family has his own ways and very singular abilities. He caressed his ancestor’s locket through his cloth. Nobody has ever doubted that Salazar’s Locket was a powerful artifact if one mysterious. He wasn’t certain that Scorpius will figure it out by his own and find a way to tame the unyielding magic of the First Mages descendants but he could let him try and experiment with Luna on the gifts running through Salazar’s blood.

 

After his purchases, he didn’t wait to send them by owl with a letter to his elder sister, thinking about his siblings happiness and amazement that the gifts will provoke, he felt contented when thy returned to the castle. He had bought Loreta an ice-cream of Florean Fortescue’s parlor after he saw her leer at the hundreds of different perfumes and her expression when he told her to take something was one of the most gratifying reward he had gotten so far.

 

He couldn’t help but think somberly at her unhidden pure joy, wishing her to enjoy it while it was still possible for a storm was coming to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> — LEXICON AND END WORDS —
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this, people.
> 
> *Capital of Old Saurænia: ‘Gold Lily’ is named after the late Queen Liliana and the Royal Flower of the Imperial Family. Surely, it did have another before her death.
> 
> *House Couronne: Why I didn’t kept Delacour as last name? For fun, Fleur is obviously a veela as for her mother, the mother of her mother, her daughters and her potential granddaughters will probably veela.. Couronne is the French version of Crown, it seemed fitted for an empress. 
> 
> — The Gryffindors —
> 
> His Majesty, the Emperor Heramald: First of His Name, also known as the Great Lion, the Warrior and the (Dreadful) Conqueror. He’s the sovereign of the Empire of Saurænia. To Draco, he’s as well the murderer of the previous generation of Slytherins. He’s a popular Hero in every way for his people and he rules over the largest part of the Old Continent.
> 
> Her Excellence, the Empress : Fleur Gryffindor nee Couronne and spouse of Heramald, she’s the daughter of Lord Augustin and his wife, Lady Apolline, who live at Rosemont, the lands of their family are neighboring the two besieged Provinces of the East. She might have been a cause of the attack. Fleur’s a veela, that explain her mesmerizing beauty though Draco is not aware of the fact.
> 
> James Celemrald Gryffindor: Crown Prince of Saurænia, elder child of the Imperial Family. He’s twenty one.
> 
> Caldor Hardwin Gryffindor: Second child of the Imperial Family. He’s seventeen.
> 
> Daphne Euphemia Gryffindor: Third child of the Imperial Family. She’s sixteen and also a veela.
> 
> Edric Henry Gryffindor: Fourth child of the Imperial Family. He’s fifteen.
> 
> Astoria Liliana Gryffindor: Youngest child of the Imperial Family, she’s seven and may as well bloom into a full veela or only show some bits of her inheritance.


	4. IV. The Lion's Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there,
> 
> My title makes reference to the members of a lion's group, as the packs of wolves, group of lions are called a pride. Hence the Lion's Pride.
> 
> Take me long time to finish that chapter because I finished the next before be here it is.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.  
> XX

**The Holy Offspring**

**IV. The Lion’s Pride**

 

* * *

 

_There is an old rumor claiming that_

 

_Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were brothers in all but blood,_

 

_But then Godric started to wield magic under his will,_

 

_And Salazar started to hear snakes whispering to his ear._

 

_There is an old rumor claiming that_

 

_Snakes whispered in Salazar’s ear for him to join the East where power was pouring from the forest’s roots,_

 

_And that Magic pushed and guided Godric in the West where power was flowing down the rivers beds._

 

_There is an old rumor claiming that_

 

_Power while unlimited can hardly be shared,_

 

_Neither between enemies nor between brothers,_

 

_Leaving only broken souls in its path._

 

* * *

 

 

Padmary caught Roan’s blue cerulean eyes and Roan caught Padmary’s stormy eyes. The girl smirked and the boy blushed as they were in gardens, walking among red roses and tall trees, she’d listened to her betrothed as he ranted and raved for half an hour about his brothers and he just came to the realization that she hadn’t tell a word since they first meet in the gardens.

 

“I want to visit Ilvenia,” Padmary suddenly said after a silence and the boy stilled in surprise.

 

“For what purpose, if I may ask, Princess?”

 

Padmary looked up at him, her eyes gliding over his strong features, the curls of his dark ginger hair falling on his shoulders, the four o’clock shadow dusting his typical northern jaw, the telltale tan of the travelers merchants darkening his pale skin slightly, contrasting the freckles dusting his straight nose. Her taunting smirk slowly faded away, her betrothed looked so princely now with his hair cut so tidily and his cleaned stubble, he didn’t look a bit like the brute she meet in the bar, drinking mead with the soldiers in the low city, sneaking out at every opportunity. Roan’d been the last child of a large and wealthy family for a long time, sheltered and often disregarded he’d rapidly learnt to dig his own way in this life. After his rebellion of sort, his father allowed him to go trading alone in the Continent under the watch of his primary associate, Padmary had meet him the first time during one of her secrets excursion in the low city several years prior, just after Pansilira’s wedding, the boy had been hanging around the gamblers spot just like she used to do when bored.They got along and became friends fast enough.

 

Last year, Roan was just coming back from a long trip in the north when his father died in an attack of bandits. They suspected mercenaries sent by competition though. Roan was still trying to track them down with his mother, his little sister and his older brothers. Even if, the twins have opened several shops in the country, they were still mostly living in the capital and were thus still accessible.

 

“You said that your next trip will be in the south, once the Evensoles become a full part of the Empire, they will be no reason for the King Edgar to refuse trades with the East, and now that we’re betrothed, I don’t see any reason as to why you can’t take me with you.”

 

Roan scowled, he pulled off his forearm from her grip. “Are you telling me that all your sham was for that?”

 

Padmary’s eyes widened in alarm and she slapped his shoulder, _hard_. Looking back at their chaperon, she saw that the mid-aged woman was staring at them with a hawk eye. “Mind your words, you oaf,” the Princess whispered harshly in his ear. “I did nothing to offend you in that way.”

 

“Nothing?!” The boy repeated incredulously.“You-” Catching himself, he glanced back at their chaperon, Lady Dolores, and leaned down to her ear. “You fooled me and forced me to get along with this farce. Now, I’m caught in this betrothal of nothing. I must tell you that you makes a very poor friend, Princess,” he spat angrily.

 

Padmary frowned and catch his arm to lead them towards the fountain, hoping that the rushing of the waters would be enough to cover up their voices. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset, Roan. Did I need to remind you that you accepted to act? Unless…”

 

Her voice trailed off and she cast him a pointed look, like she wasn’t sure that she wanted to actually say it out loud. “You actually wanted to lie with me?”

 

Roan blushed and Padmary sent him a dark look. “No offense, Roan. But I would prefer to get laid with a man who actually loves me and not one who just lust after me.”

 

The merchant perked up at this. “What makes you think that I don’t love you?”

 

Padmary smirked, noting as he didn’t deny the fact that he was lusting after her. “We’re friends, Roan,” she sighed, her cat-like eyes narrowed in annoyance. “If there’s any love in your heart for me, it is as a friend and believe me it’s already well-enough for me.”

 

The young man remained silent at this, like he was turning her words in his head. No doubt that what he heard displeased him greatly, finally he stood up, looking down at where she was seated on the fountain’s bench. “You confuse me greatly, Princess and I’m not certain I like it. What do you want from me?”

 

“ _From_ you?” Padmary laughed, crossing her legs. Her new position was putting chest in the front, something that she seemed to be oblivious off. As her deep blue dress was cutting wide on her graceful collarbones and was tight-fitted on hersmall waist. There were no ways for Roan to keep his eyes off her hidden breasts. He didn’t even had the opportunity to saw them the other day when they faked their coupling, he was the one half-naked and he just got a gentle touch of her body when she pressed herself against him. That day was haunting him because he’d never really thought of Padmary in that way before, she was certainly pretty but to be completely honest, Roan had a hard time to consider beautiful women other than Prince Theodore’s wife when he was a boy, Lady Hermione was so captivating, and Padmary was just a friend, a good friend. Now, she was a really beautiful friend, _his_ betrothed and he was actually asking himself, how he could have never seen it before. Granted, he was just a dumb boy and now he was on his way to become a man. And Roan had always been helplessly awestruck in front of smart women.

 

Padmary was certainly smart, terrifyingly so.

 

“I want nothing from you, Roan. I want to go _with_ you.”

 

Yes, she definitely got what she wanted from him. In truth, she was no friend to him even if she claimed to be since she’d no qualms to use their friendship for her own gain.

 

“Roan,” Padmary sent him an amused look when he stayed silent for too long. “Are we going in the South or not?”

 

The redhead scowled. Again. “I need to speak to my mother, to schedule the dates. The twins spoke of the possibility to open some of their shops in other Kingdoms as well with the integration of our kingdom in the Empire.”

 

Padmary rose then, she leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. Roan blushed at the feeling of her plump lips on his skin and she slapped him again for good measure, the merchant didn’t even wince at the strength she obviously make a point of putting in it. Making sure, he felt it. It was like being slapped by a fussy kitten anyway. Not that he would ever tell her something like that. It was always funny to make her believe that she actually had some strength in her small body, especially when she was the only one child of the late King besides Luna who refused to go on training with weapons.

 

Umbridge cleared her throat loudly in warning at the kiss and Padmary snorted.

 

“I bid you goodbye, Ron,” she told him, taking a step back.

 

“Goodbye, Padma.”

 

She left him with a wink, and Roan was aware that he was probably blushing. Oh, Padmary obviously took a like in making him blush, and yes, Roan sighed, she confused him greatly.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“And there is the Portrait Hall,” Luna intoned softly, “Our ancestors made a tradition of making a portrait of each members of the Royal Family so that their history will ever be remembered. There’s unfortunately no portrait of the Great Salazar, painting wasn’t really developed back then but there’s a statue of our Ancestor. You saw it when we paid our respects to our parents, Scorpius.”

 

The boy nodded, eyes wide as he took in all the paintings hanging on the high and smooth walls of the Hall, his sister took his hand and led them to the first canvas, a large paintwork of a family of silver haired people with an intricate golden frame was hanging alone on the wall perpendicularly to the other paintings. It was painted at human scale and the details rendering the people painted very intimidating.

 

Luna raised her hand towards the bearded man, his crown was of silver and emeralds stones, he seemed to be of middle-age and his hair had the unmistakable silver-shade of his King Brother - Draconis - but his eyes though had very startling purple hue. “There’s the King Nicholas I and,” Luna pointed the beautiful woman sitting at his side, same silver hair and purple eyes, she seemed younger than the man. “This is his sister wife, Medea. They were the very first that had their family painted in that way, we think that other had tried before but the canvas must have been lost or destroyed.”

 

Scorpius eyes grew even more wide. “Wait! Sister? He married his sister?!”

 

Lunæria smiled, amused by his antics. “Well, yes, little brother. It was a very current practice back then, in order to preserve the Dragonblood, our ancestors married their siblings or cousins.”

 

“Ewww!” Scorpius made a face, he seemed completely horrified, making Luna giggle.

 

“Don’t worry, little brother. We don’t do that anymore.”

 

Scorpius mocked relief and Luna rolled her eyes, the boy pointed the two boys standing beside the couple, and the little girl on Queen Medea’s lap. “And who’s that?”

 

“Here is the Prince Brutus,” Luna started by pointing the older child, this one didn’t have silver hair, Scorpius realized, the boy had very shiny strawberry blonde curls even if his eyes were purple. “He was King Nicholas firstborn and a bastard. Our ancestor pitied him when his mother, a common girl - probably a whore - died and decided to raise him with his family and included him in the Royal Family. His decision had led to a controversy among the Royal’s Court as bastards were poorly looked upon at that time, they were considered as cursed because they were the result of a sin. Do you understand?”

 

When Scorpius nodded, somewhat confusedly and Luna resumed her speech. “In spite of all the hatred that decision gathered, Brutus was raised with his younger siblings,” She pointed the silver-haired and purple-eyed boy, “Prince Septimus and Princess Magdalen.” The little girl, barely a toddler was also silver-haired and purple-eyed. “Their story is an interesting one as it revealed a lot of things behind the legend of the Cursed Throne.”

 

When Luna took a break, Scorpius seized the occasion to ask a question that was turning in his mind. “Why are they all purple-eyed? I’ve never seen anyone who’s purple-eyed.”

 

“It was another physical trait of our sacred blood, true Dragonbloods had purple eyes long time ago along with their silver hair. We lost that physical trait when we stopped to marry our siblings to preserve the purity of our blood. Currently, only silver hair remain and we can see that it also become rarer. Out of eight children from seven different wives, King Lux’Ciun managed to produce only one Dragonblood.”

 

“Ohhh,” Scorpius hummed. “Not that it is not a good thing but why did we stop to care about the purity of our blood?”

 

“I will come to it,” Luna replied, she led them to the following paintings, unlike the first, this one was like a fresco, depicting an epic scenery where two fierce warriors were in full armors fighting each others. Their swords meeting each other in a majestic ‘clang’, there was no sound of course but Scorpius could imagine it easily enough. The warriors were fighting in an arena of sort, with dirt and sand waltzing under their heavy steps.

 

Scorpius jaw went slack when he recognized the faces of the two warriors.“Is it…?”

 

“Yes,” Luna agreed. “Septimus and Brutus as they grew older developed a rivalry and at their father’s death, Brutus decided that he was more worthy of the throne than his brother would ever be and tried to claim it for himself with an army of his own. The brothers fought each other for years until their ultimate encounter here depicted on this artwork.”

 

“Which one won?” Scorpius asked excitedly with a grin. “WAS IT SEPTIMUS?”

 

“No,” Luna answered dreamily and Scorpius’ grin immediately fell from his face. “Brutus won. He was a fierce warrior, as a bastard, he had fought all is life and was thus far more experienced than Septimus, and far more cruel. Even if, Septimus was a talented warrior, he was notably known for his great intelligence, his wisdom, not for his skills in battle.”

 

“You’re kidding,” Scorpius said dejectedly, he wrinkled his freckled nose. “It wasn’t his birthright, he couldn’t have been King.”

 

“You’re right,” Luna told him, “It wasn’t his birthright but he did became King instead of his brother. Which lead us to the next painting.”

 

Scorpius followed his half-sister to the next portrait, this one was depicting a woman standing alone in front of two open doors, leaving way to the wind ruffling her long silver hair. She was a very pale beauty with red lips and pale lilac eyes. She was wearing a small tiara on her head with a silk white dress flowing with the wind. She was looking straight at them but at the same time, straight beyond them. The look in her eyes reminded him of Lunæria’s far away gaze, his sister sometimes looked like she was seeing things other people don’t, even if she wasn’t saying anything about it.

 

“Princess Magdalen,” Scorpius readily guessed.

 

“No,” Luna disabused him once again. “ _Queen_ Magdalen. I got my second name from her, you know.”

 

“Did she married Brutus?” asked Scorpius, only half-questioning and Luna smiled once again.

 

“When King Brutus claimed the throne, Sorcerers from the Opal Order descended from their mountains to meet him and alerted him of what will fall upon him if he was to take the Throne of the Dragons by force, he did not listen to them. Elders from all around the Kingdom came to alert of the fate that shall fall upon him if he was to take the Throne of Dragons by force and once again, he did not listen to them. On the day he decided to take what he considered back then as his right, Old Nans started to whispers in the castle’s halls, down the streets, in the middle of the night, in the heart of their homes about the curse that King Brutus, the Kinslayer, hath wrought upon them all,” she whispered lowly.

 

When Scorpius shuddered, he realized that at some point, Lunæria had started to whisper.

 

“Wha- What happened to him?” He asked hesitantly as if he was scared to provoke the wrath of some ghost.

 

“The Cursed Throne of Dragons happened.”

 

“ _Only the Dragons shall reign over the Evensoles,_ ” recited Scorpius like an old poem he learned with his tutors.

 

“Exactly Scorpius, this is our very first law. We don’t know who placed the curse, people say it was the spirits of the Sky Lords that came to preserve our lands from invasion but no one is really sure about that. And King Brutus ignored the law and sat on the throne.”

 

“And?” Scorpius asked again, striating to lose patience.

 

“An era of devastation fell upon the East. The lands dried up, the cattle died from unknown diseases, people become sick and hungry, the springs dried up as well, and the rain never came back. We call that period the Great Drought, half of the population died in the next few years following King Brutus reign. People say that the air was hot but they were no sun, that the earth was open but they were no water. Now let’s talk about dear Queen Magdalen.”

 

“Ahh, completely forgot about her,” Scorpius admitted, returning to the portrait hanging before them.

 

“When Septimus was to take the throne, he married his sister before as was the tradition but Brutus fought against him for the throne and eventually vanquished. He tried to marry Magdalen, after he took the throne. But it was very obvious that young woman was already swelling with a child and she fled after the death of Septimus. When she caught whispers of what was happening to her people, she came back home with her child, the very famous Prince Draconis I. Brutus was dying from some unknown disease brought upon him by the Cursed Throne and she managed to return in the East in time to show him her son. Rumors says that he was smiling in relief on his deathbed, happy to know that they were still hope for his Kingdom.”

 

Luna smiled sadly and led them to the next picture, depicting another Dragon King sitting on his throne with a serene expression. There was an old woman standing beside him.

 

“Queen Magdalen took the mantle of the late King, as her son was too young and ruled the Evensoles in the best of her abilities. It was a very rough period, and such damages couldn’t go in a blink of eyes. She struggled to keep her kingdom from a complete death, the people were weak but also hopeful. They named her, Magdalen, _the Great Mother_ as she had filled people’s hearts with hope and love like no other mother or queen did before her. When Draconis took the throne, he brought with him a new era. Magdalen had protected her people and her son through dark times in a tight embrace but only Draconis managed to break through the darkness that had engulfed them. He was _both_ strong and wise inheriting wisdom from his father and his endurance from his mother. They called him, _the Savior_. It was a very mystical and strange period, I might say. There’s no details as to how, Draconis’ coming to the throne made the earth blossom new again, the rain falling once again or gave a new life to the springs, filling the rivers and streams with healing waters. But the people were absolutely sure that he was blessed. Maybe he was, maybe not. Who know? I like to think the he was, and you?”

 

“I don’t know,” Scorpius shrugged. “Is our lesson’s finished? It was a very interesting story but I want to see the things our brother sent us. I heard servants talking about smart owls and flying brooms.”

 

Luna frowned. “What?”

 

“I know, it’s weird. But I want to see what this is about, don’t you?”

 

“You’re right,” Lunæria confessed. “I’ve always been fascinated by the rumors about Saurænian’s ways. Let’s hurry!”

 

“Yay!” Scorpius screamed and ran towards the stairs with Luna on his steps.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I don’t trust him.”

 

The day was cold, with a sun barely seen behind the thicks clouds of winter. There was no snow yet, but Heramald could feel that it was only a matter of days. The clangs of steel against steel rang loudly from the yard where his sons where actually training with their friends, some knights and their squires. Ser Kingsley was the one, he chose to train his young, the man was one of the most talented swordsman of the whole Continent, he knew that fact after ten years of battle with Ser Kingsley as his righthand. The man was skilled but more than that, he was trustworthy and a noble soul like few were these days. The Conqueror looked around to see his wife a few steps away, walking towards him, he rested his hands on the railing of the balcony and watched as his son sent his opponent in the dirt with a thoughtful feint.

 

“I know,” Heramald gestured to her to come closer and she obeyed, somewhat reluctantly and looked below them. Her eyebrows raised when she saw a few green guards joining the training yard. Heramald pointed one of them, tall, burly and dark-skinned but with a skin tone still lighter than Kingsley, a man of mixed origins. “This is Ser Blaithin Zabini, I believe that he’s our guest most trusted guard. However, the servants reported that he wasn’t the one guarding the doors of quarters, Ser Gregory Goyle and Ser Vincent Crabbe are the ones assigned to this task. The three of them come from eastern noble families.”

 

She looked at the two other men, their were big in size and mass but Fleur could tell without difficulty that Ser Blaithin was the dangerous one in the trio. “I wonder why he wouldn’t keep the most skilled for his safety.”

 

“Precisely, the servants gossiped between them and reported that things were not very different in the East in the past months. Before his coronation, Draconis trusted Ser Blaithin for his safety and after the ceremony, his chose these men.”

 

Fleur’s crown caught the light of the sun as it pierced the clouds for the briefest moment and it made the diamonds of her tiara shone like stars among the golden rivers of her hair and Harry turned around to face her as he realized that her allure of Veela was more enhanced than usual. He frowned, passing a thick arm around her frail shoulders and led them back inside when she shivered. She sat on the armchair near the earth and sighed in satisfaction when its warmth washed over her.

 

“Fleur,” the Emperor sat on the other chair. “Something is troubling you?”

 

Heramald was certainly not the most versed man in the knowledge of Veelas but after marrying one of them for over twenty years, he could tell for sure that Veelas hardly ever used their allure to their full potential, it would happen only when they felt threatened or neglected and his wife was neither.

 

For a moment, Fleur seemed extremely embarrassed like she’d hoped he wouldn’t pick on it. She looked at the fire in silence and finally sighed. “I do not know why but the Veela in me is on edge since we met that little eastern King. I tried tirelessly to ignore it but something in him made me want to lash out each time I caught a breath of of his perfume. And I can’t understand why because he’s actually well-mannered and very polite.” The Empress finished her explanation, disbelief marring her face at her own irrational feelings.

 

The Conqueror nodded solemnly, if there’s one thing his family’s history ever taught him it is to stay ever wary of the Slytherins. Housing a snake was not without risks. He wold keep an eye on these guards as well as their guest.

 

* * *

 

 

James groaned as he took a nasty blow on the shoulder and sent right back his brother on the ground. He’d been distracted by the sight of his parents watching them from their balcony and his brother took the opportunity to get his revenge after losing four fights. Unfortunately, James wasn’t unused to people waiting for a weak spot to strike him and had very tough bones.

 

He took Caldor’s training sword forcefully out of his hand and glared at him when his brother made to raise from the ground. The lad cursed something under is breath but James ignored him and watched as Ser Kingsley taught defensive moves to his younger brother. Edric was barely listening, opting instead to rush into the old Knight in the hope of somehow magically pierce his defense. James shook his head, that boy was hopeless.

 

Caldor laughed when Edric stumbled on his own feet, quickly forgetting that he was also on the ground less than five minutes before. “ _The talented one in the family! How it is you can barely stood on your feet!_ ” He taunted loudly the youngest, his voice easily reaching the other side of the training yard. Edric glared at him and made to join them.

 

Ser Kingsley let him go as he probably realized like everyone that Edric wasn’t going to make any exploits today.

 

Edric tossed his wooden sword towards Caldor and growled when he easily dodged it. “Shut up, you arse!”

 

Caldor snickered even more and picked up the wooden sword. Noting how pitiful it looked with all the broken parts, it looked like someone had tried to eat it with bits missing here and there.

 

“Well,”he mused. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to have your first sword anytime soon, brother. No matter what mother says.”

 

Edric reddened like a tomato and James sighed. “Leave him be, Cal.”

 

“What?” Caldor looked shocked to be chastised. “I’m only telling the truth.”

 

James glared at him. “Don’t act like you weren’t worse when you started your training.”

 

This time, Edric sniggered, his frustration quickly forgotten.

 

James looked once again at the balcony of the Royal Wing and frowned when he saw that his parents had gone back inside. Usually, they watched their lessons until the end, sometimes, their father even came with them on that training yard.

 

“I think father is making a mistake,” declared the elder.

 

His brothers both looked at him in surprise, interrupting their bickering.

 

And Caldor caught up his meaning first. “What? You mean about the young King?”

 

James nodded and Edric shrugged before voicing his thoughts. “I think he is pretty enough.”

 

His older brothers stared at him in disbelief and Caldor snorted in amusement. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

Edric blushed and scratched the nape of his neck. “Well someone that pretty can’t be that bad, right?”

 

Caldor burst into laughing and James rolled his eyes pointedly before his seriousness came back.

 

“I can’t believe we’re related,” he muttered, giving up into including his younger brother in his musings and instead looked at Caldor who was still laughing a bit.

 

“More seriously,” he told them when Caldor finally caught his breath and could look at their younger sibling without going back in a fit of laughter. “You stay on your guard, I have a bad feeling about this and everyone know that the Slytherins are unpredictable.”

 

“You worry over nothing,” Caldor said as he gave back Edric his wooden sword. “I think things are doing well with the Easterners, they don’t seem nearly as bad as people make them.”

 

James sent him a hard look, remembering that he caught his brother talking with the Evain ambassador, Alecto Carrow. “And you would know that, right?”

 

Caldor smirked. “I can help if I like novelties.”

 

James knew then that he would have to keep an eye on his brother, knowing the fool he was, he was bound to end up in precarious situations.

 

 

* * *

 

 

At the sunset, Draconis stared at the sky as the dark veil of night robbed the skies of their light. When the Moon showed herself among the dark clouds, the young King watched her until the midnight and closed his eyes when his hourglass dropped his last grain of sand. He turned the small object upside, knowing he would need it the following night.

 

Imbolc was there at last, the festivities would start by the morning and end well after the following night for the every soul in the whole Empire and Gold Lily would be the loudest city of all. He looked around and caught the stare of Ser Gregory who stood soundlessly by the door.

 

“It’s time. Be careful.”

 

The guard nodded obediently and left without wasting time. Feeling the last remnant of doubt in his heart, the King raised his eyes towards the moon and following his sister’s advice, sent her a prayer.


	5. V. The Price of Our Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draconis reveal his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The most important chapter I think, Draco is acting on his thoughts and the result is nothing short of shocking. Everything is here, the warnings I gave you apply themselves particularly in this chapter.

The Holy Offspring

V. The Price of Our Sins.

* * *

 

 

 

_Tales are numerous about this son running to avenge the death of his mother,_

 

_They spoke of his brave heart, his tenacity and of the force of his resolve,_

 

_Of how he never fell before the challenges set upon him, thriving through the hardship._

 

_Tales are numerous about this son running to avenge the death of his mother,_

 

_They spoke a great quest for justice and glory but ever fail to name his sacrifices,_

 

_Of how he never recoiled in front of death and violence, painting his own soul red of blood._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The night of Imbolc, marked by the eerie light of the Rowan Moon, the King of Evensoles retired early to his quarters. Alone, he waited patiently until the silence had completely fallen over the Great Palace of Saurænia in the deep darkness of the night. Long hours of dancing, feasting, drinking under a sky filled with wizards fireworks and bright stars through all the Festival, even then, in the heart of the night, people could hear the bellowing drunkards running at the foot of the Palace and even more noise in the city below Godric’s Hill.

 

He had no doubt that everyone in the Palace - besides the children that been sent to bed much early - must have returned to their quarters at least quite tipsy or completely drunk around three in the morning, the more adventurous had descended in the city of Gold Lily to pursue the party until the sunrise with their blue, green and purple lanterns left flowing below the cliffs and all along the Harbor of the Lion’s Bay in the name of Imbolc. That fact only significantly facilitated his endeavor.

 

Draconis glanced at the blue flower lying near his wine pitcher and at the hourglass, trickling down relentlessly on the nightstand. He took out a vial from the silky pouch resting on his thighs, removing the cap, he picked the long golden hair resting beside him and let it slid into the misty mixture. It turned slowly into a shiny watery blue mixture looking like liquid sapphires and when the change finished, he didn’t wait a bit to raise the potion to his lips, drawing in a last shaky breath, he drank it all at once, grimacing at the sour taste of it.

 

A minute passed and at first, he didn’t feel anything but slowly beads of sweat sprang all over his skin as heatwaves slowly increasing in intensity washed over his body. His breath became shallower, his limbs heavier and his head fell back on his pillow on its own. Then, at the moment he thought that everything was over, a pain of tidal force flowed through his body, taking his breath away as he felt like his skin was falling apart on his very face, melting away like wax. He fought the screams bubbling up his throat and gasped as he felt his bones contort under his burning flesh, heard them creak and felt his skin break even more, drops of blood sprouting out and vanishing into thin air.

 

His eyes watered against his will and dark spots covered the edges of his sight, he looked around with blurry eyes and glued his gaze on the moon when he saw it emerging from the thick clouds, his light meeting him for a second and Lunæria’s words came to his mind.

 

_May the Moon clear your way, brother._

 

Her whispers followed him into a pit of darkness.

 

When he woke up, the first thing Draco felt was the weight of his body, seemingly made of plumb. His limbs were heavier, his hair were both longer and thicker with loose curls instead of straight locks, he moved slowly testing his forces and stood carefully on his feet. His hips were wider and his body had more curves, giving him an awkward sway when he took few steps that he didn’t have before, but he was also slightly taller and just as light-footed and graceful than before. Draco looked at his reflection on the windows panes and met deep blue orbs instead of stormy grey ones, slipping his bare feet in a pair of light shoes, he raised an hand to touch his face, fingertips meeting the smooth lines of his skin, finding it thicker in parts and softer in others.

 

Resolutely, he didn’t wait to move towards the doors and opened them on two tall shadowy figures waiting for him outside. Ser Gregory and Ser Vincent were conspicuously absent and the silent men facing him were both covered in dark suits with their faces hidden under skull masks, he stared at their frightening attires and stepped back.

 

 _Death-Eaters,_ his mind reminded him, _Voldemort’s followers_.

 

He allowed them in without a fight, unwilling to risk his life and wasn’t surprised to encounter only dead corpses on the floor of the hallways when he left the room to pursue his ambitious designs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Fleur stirred in her husband’s arms suddenly suffocating with heatwaves, she pulled away and pushed the blankets in the dark bedroom.

 

“Husband?” She called to see if he companion was awake and her husband made a noncommittal noise that made her snort in both annoyance and amusement. “I warned you about drinking too much, Husband. Especially those foreign beverages, you’re going to be in fool mood tomorrow.”

 

Heramald groaned unhappily and asked sternly. “Why aren’t you sleeping, dear?”

 

The Empress couldn’t see him in the dark but she could feel him, his wide body on the sheets and his heavy arm still resting across her waist, she shrugged helplessly, not knowing herself what woke her up. “Can you light a candle for me, please? I think I need fresh air.”

 

The Conqueror didn’t move at all but a small candle resting on the nightstand suddenly lighted in life and the veela wiggled her way out ungainly with a victorious sigh when she was finally free of heavy blankets and moved to their private balcony with the small candle in her hand. Once outside, the first lady put her candle on the high table and raised her blue eyes to the dark cloudy midnight sky.

 

Even hidden, the moonlight was noticeable throughout, lighting the clouds hiding it. Imbolc had come and gone but even from here, she could see the lanterns still lightening Gold Lily not far, the city was bright and still full of life, the commoners loved to celebrate all night. Thus she knew, the noise would reach the peaks of dawn before silence briefly settled back on the city.

 

The saurænian lady was leaning on the balcony’s handrail to appreciate the sight before her when a movement caught the corner of her eye. She barely had the time to draw in a breath, before a dart was crushing her throat, efficiently catching her cry in her lungs. Long and sharp, it had stabbed her in a flash of light, and blood filled her mouth in mere seconds, spurting in hot and frightening streams, staining her white nightgown and shiny blonde locks in glaring red. Slowly recovering from the shock, the consort tried to stop the bleeding with her bare hands but found the steeled dart still in there and she choked breathlessly even more, dark spots erupting in her sight, rapidly dimming her sight.

 

She stumbled, sharp pain confusing her senses.

 

“Fleur?” Someone called her back in the bedroom. She recognized her husband’s rough voice and tried to crawl back toward him but a foot pressed on her back, pinning her down, her weakened arms couldn’t handle the pressure as life left her body bit by bit. “Are you done?”

 

The dying woman looked up with difficulty at the stranger and saw herself standing in front of her, her double looked down at her meeting her silent pleading with cold and soulless blue eyes, and she saw her own mouth moving to answer to her husband. “I’m coming, love. Just needed few breaths.”

 

And she watched with wide eyes as the usurper reassured the Emperor, salty tears of despair and rage rushed of her eyes and the cold smile on her own face imprinted itself in her mind when darkness finally claimed her sight, her blood loss too extensive.

 

Still somehow, she managed to catch the last words of the person usurping her identity when she whispered very lowly in her ear. “For having requested the attack on the Eastern Provinces yourself, provoking the killing of hundreds of my own. Tonight, you’ll die just like them, Empress. At the most _unexpected_ time.”

 

* * *

 

 

People have many things to say about Lord Voldemort’s ways of fighting. But when you can’t fight in daylight you might as well wait for the night to open your Trojan Horse.

 

 _Strike in darkness and act in the shadows as it may be your only salvation,_ the young dragon thought contemplatively.

 

When Fleur came back, she silently closed the bay window behind her and glided soundlessly towards the bed, resting the small candle back on the nightstand, the flame barely lightening anything anymore. And, with the briefest moment of hesitation, she crawled on the red silky sheets to lie still on her side. She looked down on the vast expanse of tanned skin beside her and raised a hand to touch her husband’s sprawled form, slowly caressing the hard lines of muscles of his abdomen moving slightly under her hand with each steady breath. Her hand went lower and lower, her fingers starting to sinking in a nest of dark curls when a calloused hand suddenly stopped her. Her heart leapt in her ribcage but she didn’t shy away nor did she looked up to meet the pair of emeralds orbs silently observing her in the dim light. She let out a breath when a heavy and large hand rested on bare thigh, sliding up purposefully under the sheer silk cloth. Goosebumps raised over her skin and she draw in a sharp breath when warm and calloused fingers closed themselves on her right breast and fondled shamelessly her nipple, meeting no underclothing in the way. Fleur shivered at the touch, thinking about what to do when she was suddenly knocked on her back, green eyes looking right into her wide eyes.

 

Heramald leaned down to leave a kiss down her neck which sent an uncontrolled shiver down her spine and hummed lowly right beneath her ear. “Still eager to give me that sixth child, my lady?”

 

The rough tone of his voice made her squirm uncomfortably as she bit her lower lip to hold back a sound that would betray her.

 

“Perhaps,” she whispered candidly, moving to spread her legs. The movement rushed a predatorily kind of sound out of the Emperor’s throat, something not unlike a growl. One of Heramald’s hands moved down on her hip as he encaged her in his embrace, pressing her body heavily into the mattress in a way she never experienced before. The warrior’s excitation though couldn’t have been clearer as she felt a rather impressive stiffness against her thigh, it made her gulp inadvertently as her buried nervousness showed itself back to life. The following kiss caught her totally off guard when he lowered his body further against hers.

 

A warm tongue mightily invaded her mouth, letting her taste the heavy alcoholic northern beverage called vodka and the faint taste of raw opium secretly poured into it, letting her know that the man on top of her was completely drunk and very high on top of that, feverishly ravaging her mouth with hungry moves that sent a fire down her belly which left her breathless and utterly shocked.Fleur let out a rasping breath when he finally pulled off her mouth, trying to pull back together what she was expecting and what she was actually feeling. His hand moved from her hip and she heard a rustle before realizing that he was tearing apart the flimsy fabric of her gown in shreds. Naked, without any barrier between them, the feeling on his skin over her own ignited a fire in her lower parts and she started to squirm, with her heart drumming against her ribcage and her breath shallow, as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to flee the intense experience or go further into it.But she didn’t have to chose tin the end, Heramald moved, his thick and burning appendage sinking into her body seamlessly, stretching her wet walls relentlessly, and her breath left her altogether when acute pain flared in her lower belly dimming any kind of pleasure instantaneously. She tensed uncontrollably and barely restrained herself from crying out in pain and betraying her position.

 

The Emperor let out a contented sigh when he was fully into her. “So tight,” he breathed behind her ear and she shuddered, feeling split in half from the inside and impossibly full. He waited before moving, probably trying reign over himself and Fleur’s eyes watered slightly as she tried vainly to steady her shattered breath. Heramald raised his head to meet her blurry gaze, his green eyes were both sharper and completely darkened by lust, he wasn’t waiting to gain control over himself, he was waiting for _her_ to move. When the pain had dimmed sufficiently to be bearable, she moved slowly and looked into those emeralds gems, realizing suddenly how utterly captivating they were.

 

“That’s it, my beautiful flower,” he praised her huskily.

 

Heramald shot her a predatory grin that caught her breath as a last warning, he looked like the fierce lion that he was well known to be with his matted dark hair and the hard line of his stubbled jaw in the middle night, it was fascinating sight. His handsome features hardly showed any wrinkles, only few lines were sporting around his mouth, well concealed by his beard, and his blazing gaze captivated her to the point that his first thrust caught her completely off guard.

 

She gasped, eyes wide, instinctively moving her hands on the broad shoulders, her nails sinking into his skin as he pulled himself out entirely and pushed back in powerful thrust, marking her profoundly. Each thrust created waves of pleasure and pain so entangled that it was impossible to separate one from the other, it was confusing and… Fleur moaned loudly when he changed his angle with shallows thrusts, brushing against something that made her see stars and tremble violently. Heramald’s thrusts became progressively wilder and that something rising slowly in her lower belly abruptly reached its peak, provoking an unfurling wave of pleasure that washed over her with tidal force, tremors coursed through her body, it was like her blood was rushing and _singing_ in her veins with profound satisfaction. She closed her eyes, her very core shaken by the experience and felt Heramald tense between her spams, her climax rushing his, she felt warm spurts filling her and fell back bonelessly on the cushions, eyes still close as she tried to catch her raging breath and felt him falling on his back beside her.

 

He pulled her into his arms, alcohol and opium combined might have helped because soon enough she heard his steady and deep breath ruffling the hair down her neck, he wouldn’t sleep for long though, Voldemort must have been freed from his cell by now. As planned, chances were high that he will never remember that nightly encounter with the toxic beverages running in his blood. She waited a little bit, before moving awkwardly, sliding out of the bed with the barest sound and pulled the small locket still hanging on her neck. The Emperor hadn’t even looked twice at it lest he would have seen the green snake curling on it. Fleur moved in the large room, grasping the first clothes she saw in the room, finding a plain old dress resting on a trunk that was probably tossed there to be donated or discarded. She didn’t found underclothing for her upper half but pulled out thick winter breeches from the same trunk, franticly looking around and behind her to be certain of the man’s sound resting. When she caught a red spot on the bed, she cursed lowly and snatched delicately the gown she had been wearing from the bed. Relieved to see that no dark blot was visible on the sheets.

 

Once, dressed, she hissed lowly to the locket and walked towards the doors leading to a small living room. She closed the heavy doors as slowly as she could, keeping an eye inside on the bed for any move and stepped back when the doors were totally close and tossed the dirty gown in the fire of the Imperial’s quarters hearth.

 

The locket clicked faintly on her collar bones and reveled a hidden white berry that she ate with a slight tremor and when she bit into it, a sugary taste flowed into her mouth. She swallowed it, slightly choking when the thick texture found its way down her throat and slowly a pleasant warmth come to life in her belly, warming her insides like a sun bathing. She looked down in curiosity, and her eyes widened marginally at the sight.

 

A light was coming from her belly and was visible even through the clothes, forming a perfect circle around her belly button. Unable to look away, she stood there until the light faded away, admiring as it formed patterns that grew into a curved tree that blossomed in size all over his belly, the highest branches stopping just below his breastbone and roots reaching past his waistband, at the tree of light faded. The pulling and tearing of the skin on her face reminded her of her situation and she looked down at her hands where the skin was popping and distorting itself.

 

The potion’s effect was fading and the usurper was coming back to himself. Draconis — no longer looking like Fleur — opened the door slowly and rushed himself outside. He froze momentarily when he saw Voldemort coming at the other end of the hallway, dark robes swirling with each of his steps, tracing confidently his path between the lifeless bodies of the red guards. The Eastern King didn’t wait, knowing his invitation had timed out and ran for his own sake, without looking back once when he heard the Betrayer barreling into the Imperial’s quarters, probably starling awake the monarch from sleep and everyone else who wasn’t dead yet.

 

Unwilling to join the number of the dark wizard’s victims, he didn’t look back when noise of blasts reached his ears, raw and powerful magical energy suddenly bursting into life like lightning and thunder. Knowing that he was surely missing an epical fight between the most powerful wizards of of the whole Continent, he couldn’t help but feel relieved when he reached the less frequented hallways as shoutings erupted from somewhere behind him. But when a beast slid out of darkness, he stilled himself in front of the large snake standing in his way, ready to strike at any movement.

 

‘ _Nagini_ ,’ he hissed unmistakably and the snake froze in her leapt for his throat, her threatening stance faltering immediately. _‘My name is Draconis Slytherin. I’m your only master tonight and you will obey me._ ’

 

 _‘A Slytherin,’_ The snake hissed back eagerly in eerie joy, her dark green scales barely visible in the shadow as she twisted her long body to get closer. ‘ _Who should I kill for you then, Massster?_ ’

 

The sound of doors opening echoed behind him, and he hissed to her more urgently. _‘I want you to slaughter them, Nagini. Kill all the Lions._ ’

 

* * *

 

 

The Easterner was already outside when the panic spread like gunpowder with people realizing what was really happening with the remaining Death-Eaters wreaking havoc over the Great Palace. The fight between Voldemort and the Emperor must have startled every remaining soul in the Palace with the cacophony that ensued, beams of hexes and curses were coming from all sides but the young King didn’t sow down, eager to leave this forsaken country.

 

Waiting for him, Octavius was standing before the open gate with two saddled stallions and the guards were suspiciously absents, having probably rushed inside at the first signs of attack. The servant must have been well filled in by others because he didn’t hesitate when a fire caught the side of the palace but watched with impossibly wide eyes the giant snake of fire curling inside the Imperial Wing.

 

The Evain instantly knew who it was.

 

Voldemort.

 

The man gave a heavy brown cloak to his King and helped him to mount his horse. Draco would never be able to see the Dreadful Conqueror’s expression at the sight of his wife’s dead body but he could easily imagine the absolute rage and devastation filling his eyes after having seen them so close for a brief moment. Strangely the thought didn’t fill him with glee but dread, he buried the memory though, burning it into ashes in a heartbeat as he pulled the reins of his steed.

 

The two figures vanished in the night, leaving only chaos behind them with the Dark Mark of Voldemort looming darkly over the peaks of Godric’s Hill.

 

Octavius was undoubtedly confused but still obedient, every now and then, he was looking behind him as if he wanted to ask but never dared to. Running away from the most powerful country of the Old Continent wasn’t an easy task. They were guards in Gold Lily and Gold Harbor, not only simple guards but knights and Aurors as well because the great port of commerce was near the cliffs of Godric’s Hill.

 

Aurors were the Saurænian’s elite of fighters, wizards with the greatest combative abilities, people claimed that their magic was aggressive and more instinctive, they were to be avoided in every way as rumors also claimed that their magics was able to feel a close danger and to lash out. It might be an exaggeration as Draco wasn’t a danger for them but he wouldn’t risk it with no one but a simple groom to protect them from the mages. Because of the calvary and the patrols, they couldn’t reach the cost by taking the winding roads down the hills. They needed to cut straight through the wilderness of the wood beside the golden city and they also needed to go fast because a smuggler ship was waiting for them along the seashore, a curtsy of Ipomoea, of course.

 

They did cross people even trying not, penniless tramps who watched with wide eyes as the stallions raced before them along the uneven plains of the small forest, the depressions in the soil and the large trees slowing them considerably. Once the sand and the sea showed itself at last they longed the sandy shore for a while before they saw a small, barely visible, ship with a purple star on its black flapping flag, with a dark hull and grey sails, it was made to blend in darkness. The ship neared impossibly close from the shore before they tossed their anchor overboard and slowly they set a timber footbridge up. When it was sufficiently solid, Octavius take it first, quickly followed by the runaway, horses hooves getting louder when they reached deck, Draco let out a shuddering breath as the adrenaline running through his body started to fade. A man with a pirate hat hiding half his face come to him while the other sailors of the crew efficiently pulled the anchor and took the wooden walkway back on the deck, moving the sails against the wind once again as they departed.

 

The man bowed before him with an unsettling smile when he dismounted his steed, his short beard tinkling with copper beads on the braided end. “Welcome to the _Amethyst Heart,_ Your Grace. I am the Captain Barty Crouch, to serve you all along the way.”

 

“Everyone here is a morning glory, Captain?” Draconis asked immediately as they were both leaded to the Captain cabin for privacy, glancing behind to see some sailors taking away the horses. Octavius followed with a confused expression, awkwardly standing in the small room when Crouch closed the wooden door behind them.

 

The Captain silently lighted several candles on his large wooden desk where parchments were scattered in total absence of order with multi-sized piles and turned around to get rid of the few clothes hanging on the cushioned bench of his cabin below the small window. Draco didn’t wait to be invited to sit on it when it was freed from lingering clothes and looked up at the bearded man expectantly, his beard was dark and well-trimmed and his eyes of a dark blue that reminded him deep waters and evening sky. The young King would have given him thirty in age, maybe even younger which was very odd for a Captain, even a temporary one to be that far from forty but he was obviously skilled enough to be high-ranked among the morning glories of Ipomoea.

 

“Every single one of them, Sire. Your secrets shall be well buried,” Crouch told him, leaning back on the desk. He glanced at Octavius who looked even more confused and slapped him hard in the back. “Except for this young lad, of course!”

 

The groom winced and nearly face-planted on the floor, he struggled to get his balance back as the Captain guffawed but quickly sobered when he saw the King’s stern expression.

“How far can you take us with your men?”

 

“As far in the south as possible, my King. However, if we’re attacked on the way, you’ll have to go by the land for the southern waters are filled with pirates and bandits from the Free Cities of Ilvenia, my Lord.”

 

Draconis nodded silently, a headache starting to swell on the back of his head and he asked him to show them their quarters. They will have to stay down there for most of the trip to stay hidden to avoid detection. Down in front of his cabin, Draco took a moment to contemplate the past few hours and the unexpected results. Some of his belongings where here but most of it was left in the Palace to not arose suspicion. He took his crowns — easy to hid in the packs — his best daggers, some clothes to make it look like a thief from the Death-Eaters but left his letters, some journals and everything else having who wasn’t attractive to a thief, to be certain that him running away was the last possibility envisaged.

 

He sat on the small bed with a sigh, releasing his feet from his light shoes, happy to have packed other of his own and raised his hands to massage his temples, trying to alleviate the pain building between them. His mother’s dead rotten face flashed before him briefly and he closed his eyes in pain, frowning slightly, he wondered if this vision would ever leave him, or if it would follow him until his death. A wave of sadness washed over him st the thoughts and he sighed. His actions hadn’t cured the haunting and he couldn’t drink boiled willow leaves for his headache without knowing whether it was safe or not after having used the magical products of the Sorcerer. Unfortunately, he would have to sleep off his headache.

 

The young King slowly took off his muddy colored cloak more fitted for a commoner than for a noble, and crouched down in front of the bucket of clean and warm water left there, acutely aware of the bodily fluids still covering his body even after the effects of the potion having subsided. He undressed himself totally and started to wash himself with the cloth hanging on the side of buckle and a scentless soap, getting rid of the sweat and the leftover semen and blood drying between his thighs, washing the last proofs of adrenaline and fear mixed on his skin for an half an hour strangely didn’t left him feeling cleaner.

 

Soap couldn’t clean his soul.

 

When he deemed himself clean enough without the luxury of a good bath, the last Dragon blood sat on the bed to contemplate what he had done, wondering about his fate, if he would succeed or fail to accomplish his destiny. Wether the risks took were worthy and what his mother would have thought of him right now.

 

Narcissa was in no way a judgmental woman, she was born a commoner, after all and they weremore often than not open-minded but even her has her limits and steadfast morals and Draconis would admit that his use of magic — even from the Opal Monks — wouldn’t have been gone easy on her. Draco himself had long suffering grudges about it but it was such an essential part of his plan, he couldn’t have avoided it, actually, he had needed it more than anything else. If the Dragon King really intended to fight fire with fire, magic was essential for it was the only element he could thrive in.

 

_Fire._

 

It was in his flesh, his blood, his soul.

 

Draco reached out for one of the daggers resting in a locked chest with steady hands for his hesitance had been washed away by renewed fierce determination and he moved towards the only mirror of his cabin. For a long time, he stood there naked, staring at his own reflection. His eyes were a bit red for some reason, maybe an effect of the magical beverages he ingested and his eyelashes seemed darker and longer with dampness gluing them. His beautiful hair, shiny and well cared for years and years were ruffled by their wild ride, were still too much recognizable to run away with.

 

Draconis grasped his hair with both his hands, running his fingers through the silver threads melancholically but again, his mother’s face flashed before him and he saw her crawling towards him from Death’s Realm and closed his eyes forcefully.

 

Sacrifices, right.

 

Draconis may be very selfish but he would never lie to himself about his own flaws and shall never run away from his responsibilities, lives were daily scarified for much less than that. His hair were nothing and his mother was _dead_.

He tied his hair at his neck and soon enough he muffled sound of hair dropping on the floor filled the deadly silence of the small cabin along the jerking movements of his dagger. Locks after locks, he cut of his long hair, proof of his legacy, proof of his power with an avoidable regret and when he was done, Draconis met his reflection’s gaze, his cropped hair didn’t go further than his neck by now and some were brushing against his forehead and cheeks, it was very short and unsettling as he didn’t remember himself having such short hair in his life before and he looked strangely younger and so much mundane, granted his hair were still silver but with the right amount of dye, they would look dark enough to be unrecognizable. His wealth and his rank weren’t visible anymore with this boyish haircut, proofs only visible through his demeanor and his posture.

 

Draconis noted that strangely enough that hairstyle only seemed to enlighten the features he got from his mother. Wistfully, he put on nightclothes and pushed the fallen hair in a corner of the room, he would deal with them later.

 

 _It was necessary,_ he thought bitterly, lying down on the bed, head lighter but with a heart so much heavier as the sum of his actions finally dawned upon him.

 

He slept with great difficulty with the remnants of his adrenaline still in the way, his thoughts no longer on a short leash started to spin wildly on the last events and they followed him in his sleep where he dreamt of dead bodies, of magic powers, of old tales and great legends.

 

That trip was to take them a month, one week to leave the territory and another to reach down the Black Sea in the south with her wilds waves filled with criminals, thieves, runaways and pirates, really only the scum of the Continent lived freely in those waters. There were rapists, murderers and once they reached those dangerous waters, they will have to stop on the beaches and to go further on the land to reach the other side in a trip of two other weeks to go by the Free Cities of Ilvenia to reach the Southern Ocean and then their destination, the Summer Isles. It was a very dangerous journey, but it was the only way. Someone was waiting for them down there, among the southerners, someone with whom the King had been secretly in contact and who will be able to help him through his dangerous quest for power.

 

They were six days on their trip, wandering peacefully towards the Black Sea with the dim light of dawn and the fresh morning breeze gushing when Draconis finally lose his last thread of patience after six days of suffering non-stop the furtive glances of the groom. Their peace would end soon enough and that why the young King teared his eyes from his manuscript.

 

“What is it?”

 

Octavius almost jumped from his spot on the deck — where he was watching silently the beds of fishes swimming near the black hull — and looked behind him where the King was sitting, a thick journal in his hands. The groom was a little pale-faced but still looking better than he did on his first sea-trip when he was down-right green. Right now, it was one of the few moments, they were allowed to show on the deck, in the morning before the sun completely rose in the sky to not be spotted and identified by Saurænian sailors in daylight.

 

“What do you want to know?” The King asked again, annoyance filling his tone as he had caught the third furtive glance of the day and was already fed up by this little game.

 

The groom looked around for back up. Tough luck, they were alone on this side and if some of the sailors were passing nearby, they quickly turned back.

 

The young lad cleared his voice awkwardly. “Er… Nothing, my King,” he stammered nervously not meeting the piercing gaze lingering on him before he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I…er… I was just wondering…”

 

“What could have happened to make your King flee across the country with a bunch of nobodies and his groom?” Draconis ended his sentence for him when he trailed off to search a delicate way to put his thoughts in words and Octavius nodded slowly, cautiously.

 

“Well…’’ The young King hummed thoughtfully. ‘‘It appears that under certain circumstances we have to go through regretful acts in order to restore what is right and fair.”

 

Octavius sent him a confused look at the enigmatic answer, pretty words that mean near nothing really. “Can I ask what do you mean exactly by regretful acts, Your Grace?”

 

It was Draco’s turn to sigh, sagging a little more against his chair, he gestured to the wooden trunk resting near his feet. “I have something for you in it.” Octavius moved closer and crouched before the trunk. “Open it. From what I have heard you have always wanted to become a knight someday, didn’t you?”

 

Octavius opened the coffer, shock dawning over his face in mere instants at the sight. A sword and _more,_ there were parts of a light but solid steel armor painted in silver and white.

 

“You’re eighteen, I think it is the best time to become a knight, don’t you think?”

 

Octavius merely stared at him, gaping. “Your Grace, I’m nowhere skilled enough for such honor,” he breathed heavily, his hands shaking around the long sword that he held reverently.

 

“I _saw_ you in the training yard, Octavius. Skills can be sharpened through battles and fights, but only few men in the world show a natural talent such as yours in the world. I’m no knight but I’m your King and I will need a trustworthy warrior by my side on this long journey, will you be that man?” Octavius gulped audibly at the question but immediately moved to kneel before his King without a second thought, head bowed down. Draconis straightened himself and rested a firm hand on his broad shoulder, feeling the muscles of years of carrying heavy weights and hard training, he could certainly admire such tenacity in training as they had been near no chances for Octavius to have his dream realized before but here they were. “On that day, you kneel as a mere groom and I will ask you to rose as a knight and to vow your life to the protection of your King. Arise Octavius Orison.”

 

Octavius rose slowly, pulling out the brand-new sword from his sheath to plant it firmly in ground before him, back straight, he stood tall and proud. “I swear on this day to give my life in the protection of my King,” he declared solemnly and Draco was mildly surprised that he was aware of the right words, but every boy in the realm were aware of them and Octavius was forgetting to call him by his title when they first met. “I swear to defend the King, to protect the innocent, to defend the weak, to fight the wrong and to punish the evil.”

 

“There is your first order, Ser Octavius,” Draco smiled up at him. “Your mission is to take your King safe and sound to the City of Kaur where a shelter is awaiting us and you will have to kill if the need arise in order to protect me. Do you understand?”

 

“Perfectly, my King,” the newly made Knight bowed respectfully even if Draconis could sense that he was wondering why the southern City of Kaur and not to return at Ev’Dracaenas.

 

“Good,” said the Eastern King, pushing the trunk towards him. “Now, go and put on your armor, you will have to be ready if our ship is attacked.”

 

Octavius didn’t wait to obey and Draconis returned to his journal, confident in the fact that he might have won the loyalty of a very good man. It was a careful choice, the groom had barely been seen in the Palace, always near in the stables. With Olympia doing most of his and Loreta’s work to keep a close eye on him for the Emperor’s sake, he had been left on his own and his absence would go unnoticed for the longer time.

 

On his mental Chessboard, Draconis removed the White Queen from the game and moved his Knights until they stood trapped between the White Ranks while the remainder of his pawns remained safe. The High Maester and Ser Blaithin would soon enough be confined in foreign lands with the rest of the convoy. Fortunately, the Sorcerer wasn’t fully aware of his projects and was a master in the obscure mind arts. His secrets were safe for now.

 

It was the eighth day and they were approaching the Black Sea rapidly and with an unexpectedly peaceful ride. Well not so much unexpected since the red knights of Saurænia had scared off any pirates from the Sunset Sea, only the bolder and more dangerous of them dared to cross the borders from time to time. But on this side, nearing the South of the Continent, it was only a question of time before their ship was deemed rich enough to be raided.

 

Long after dusk, Draconis was finally allowing himself the luxury of a warm bath with the waves receding on their way long enough to let him enjoy a thorough cleaning safely in the common cabin, after being sure that the sailors who weren’t guarding the desk were all resting in their quarters. He was getting rid of his last underwear, brushing a thoughtful hand against his flat belly when the noise of someone stumbling behind startled him. He struggled to get back his nightgown, sharply turning around to catch his unwanted guest and almost slapped himself on the face when he saw a red faced Octavius standing awkwardly near the door. Obviously, he had intended to sneak out discreetly.

 

“How long have you been there?”

 

His newly attended knight cleared his throat and if it was possible, his face reddened even more. “Probably too long, Sire,” he answered honestly, turning around to face him fully without meeting eyes though. “I saw the tattoo on your… your-”

 

“That’s enough,” Draconis cut him sharply. “I don’t need to hear the details, leave and if I caught you lurking around again and you’ll lose one of your eyes.”

 

Octavius vehemently denied, “I didn’t-”

 

“I _know,_ ” he interrupted him once again. “But you’re warned. Now leave, you’ll guard the door until I dismiss you for the night.”

 

The Knight left but not without sheepish and awkward - because even Knighthood can’t cure a boy from his awkwardness - apologizes and Draconis pinched the tip of his nose in annoyance. It seemed that the young man had a gift to throw himself into awkward situations, the Dragonblood was nowhere as comfortable with nudity as he was around the servants with other people. He treasured his privacy more than anything and he could only hope that man hadn’t seen as much as he claimed to have, he was mostly facing his back after all. But he saw his tattoo, nobody had ever seen that mark since it was Avery obvious after effect of his use of obscure magic. Octavius, hopefully, would keep his mouth shut about it. It was very small, a stylish tree curling around his belly button on the right side of his belly, the green leaves were more intricate in the form but the racines were bowing with stylish arcs and foreign symboles, the whole sight was strange but it was small enough and he young Dragon hoped that it would disappear in time when the effects of the magical fruit he consumed would fade away.

 

Once he was in the hot water of the small tub, his mind drifted once again towards his belly. He couldn’t know, he couldn’t be sure but it had to have worked, otherwise, everything was pointless. He brushed his stomach for a few minutes before he started to clean his body, his mood dropping marginally when he cleaned his short hair and rising only when he finally returned to his bed after having sent Octavius back to his bed. His arm stretched to pick the journal resting on the nightstand, the rocking sound of the waves brushing against the ship’s hull was lulling him into a rest but he let his attention focus on his writings.

 

Flying over the yellowish pages, he stopped on his last drawing, a lion turning midway into fire before he returned to the Thunderbird drawing, reading his noted observations on the fact that it could have made a powerful war weapon if it wasn’t so independent and dangerous. He retraced the delicate curve of the winged horse on the Abraxans page and returned to the page given to the Sirens that they met in the Trident, wondering briefly about their counterparts Mermaids.

 

His mouth pursed when he read once again the very incomplete page on the Houses Elves, and he reached the nearly blank page given to the Goblins, he hadn’t put a foot in _Gringotts Wizarding Bank_ but had head enough rumors to write few informations on them, the page on the Troll was rather well-filled by the childish writing of Princess Astoria and her stick drawing of the trolls. Draconis bit into his lower when he reached the pages filled with the spells he caught few wizards casting unawarely, he wasn’t sure of the spelling but he remembered of the dread filling him every time, this was the absolute weapon and he will be sure to have them be taught to his progeny. When his eyelids became heavier with each second passing, he blowed is candle and rested the journal back on the nightstand, swearing to himself to find a way to send it to Slytherin Castle if his life is endangered. He didn’t sleep for long, drifting in and out restlessly and after few hours, his headache fully back, he gave up and decided to enjoy the few hours remaining before sunrise on the deck.

 

People could call his endeavor a folly but Draconis believed fiercely that if it wasn’t his fate to triumph, he would have never gone so far. He was certain to have gained the blessing of an Ancient Being, with the spirits of his Ancestors watching over him no harm would come to what resided in his belly in the next following months.

 

His purpose would prevail.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> —LEXICON—
> 
> *Ancestors Spirits/Ancient Being: As I said before, Evains (population of Evensoles) believe that their world was created during the Fall of the SkyLords aka the Dragons. Here, Draco is persuaded to have gained the favour of one of them and as they’re almost gods, he thinks that nothing bad could happen to him.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this!  
> Tell me what you think of it. ^^


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